Art After 5
by sleepyvalentina
Summary: Bella Swan had life figured out until she met sixteen-year-old Edward Cullen. A few months and an intense emotional connection later, she finds herself on a journey toward self acceptance while questioning everything she'd previously accepted as true.
1. Prologue

About _Art After 5_...

A year ago I took this down because I didn't like the idea of it being out of my control. But my removing it has caused more consternation for both me and my readers in the long run, and the best way to combat those who might want to share it out of malice is for me to share it freely myself. I might publish this someday. What I won't do is self-publish and market it to those who've already read it. The editing will be extensive; the final product will look nothing like this. Given this is nothing more than a loose first draft, I see no reason not to make it available again.

-o-O-o-

**Prologue**

* * *

"Please, Bella?" Edward looked at me, his green eyes bright with curiosity.

"No."

"But I told you mine!"

And just like that—with his juvenile intonation—the reality that my lover was only seventeen came crashing down on me.

"Silly, Edward. We both know you had nothing to tell." I rolled away from him, and clutching the sheet against my bare breasts, I stepped out of the bed and into the sunlight. I stood in front of the window and closed my eyes, letting the afternoon sun warm my face.

Seventeen.

Thankfully, most of the time we were together, it was easy to forget exactly how young he was. I could never be intimate with him while dwelling on his age. During moments when such acknowledgment was unavoidable, I emotionally withdrew—a fact I'm fairly sure was not lost on him.

The sheet suddenly pulled away from my chest, and there was Edward naked in my bed, holding its other end.

"I do, now," he said, smiling.

I joined him in bed, pushing the thoughts that weighed so heavily on me away from my consciousness.

"Oh, really?"

He nodded.

"Perhaps we should start over then." I put my hands on his chest and climbed on top of him, straddling his pelvis. "So..." I looked down at him and brushed my thumbs across his nipples. "How many sexual partners have you had?"

He closed his eyes as I ground my hips against his; I was willing to play along, but I wasn't about to make this easy for him.

"One." His voice was not much louder than a whisper.

"One?"

"Yes. Exactly one. I'd watched her for months."

"Why didn't you approach her?" I asked, pressing into him.

"She was forbidden."

"My, my." I trailed a fingertip down his chest to the patch of hair below his navel. "Why did you decide to pursue her?"

"She did. I ran into her at the Art Museum on a Friday night. There was a jazz quartet playing, and she was stunning. She stood alone and swayed to the music. When I noticed her glass of wine was empty, I brought her another and struck up a conversation with her. She didn't talk down to me like other teachers did, and she didn't treat me as if I were a freak like I was used to from my so-called peers. She was human, and treated me as if I were the same. Only my family had ever done that..."

"I was never your teacher, Edward."

"No, you weren't. Well, not that way."

He reached up and pinched my nipple. I gasped, he hardened, and before I could even verbalize my need, he entered me. As he began to move, I remembered how in a few weeks this would all end. I would have to let him go.

I didn't allow the thought to linger. Instead, I let everything that was not directly related to the pleasure he brought my body drift away and focused instead on the beautiful boy beneath me.


	2. Old House With Pillars

**chapter one**

**old house with pillars**

* * *

Mary Alice Brandon was four-foot-eleven without her Manolos, and yet she terrified me. She always had, and probably always would. We met about seven years ago, during our first year of college, when we bonded through mutual trauma. Her roommate was a furry. Yes, THAT kind of furry, complete with some kind of large cat as her totem animal. We never could figure out if it was a tiger or a cougar, as the animal ear headbands she wore were somewhat ambiguous.

It was amusing at first. Everyone should know at least one person who is completely bonkers, for both comic relief and to help one feel secure in one's own sanity. Cat Woman, as we'd dubbed Alice's psycho roommate, went through periods of communicating only through animal sounds. It was entertaining and harmless enough, until one Friday morning when Alice asked Cat Woman if her boyfriend would be visiting that weekend and received nothing more than a growl in response. Alice assumed this meant that he would not be, and Cat Woman was upset about it. Imagine Alice's shock when she walked into her dorm room to find Cat Woman and her own personal king of the wild buck naked reenacting a scene from the triple X rated version of _The Lion King_.

It was some very kinky fetish play that sweet, virginal, eighteen-year-old Alice was not ready to know existed, let alone witness firsthand. After the shock wore off, Alice noticed Cat Woman was wearing her favorite pair of leopard print Manolo Blahnik mary janes and flipped out. She clawed her shoes off Cat Woman and decided to spend the rest of the weekend sleeping in the dorm lounge.

By this point, I had also taken up semi-permanent lounge residence. My roommate, tame in comparison to Alice's, was a theater major who considered herself a method actress. This was all fine and good, until she was cast in a production of _Man of La Mancha_ and the director suggested she would be able to better "feel her role" if she ceased bathing. And doing her laundry.

The entire disinfectant aisle of the local Walmart did not have enough Lysol to cover up the foul stench in my room. Call me prissy, but I like nice smelling things. I burn scented candles. I have a body wash addiction. I consider myself a fairly tolerant person, but permeating BO was not something I could handle.

I was sitting on the couch in the lounge getting ready to go to sleep, when Hurricane Alice stormed in, hyperventilating and clutching a pair of shoes.

"That psycho pussy, and I mean _pussy_ in every sense of the word, had sex in my Manolos," she wailed.

I wanted to laugh–after all, it was kind of funny. She flopped next to me on the couch and sat there for a good fifteen minutes, looking as if she was about to cry. I wanted to go to sleep and needed her off my bed, such as it was.

"Um…" I gestured for her to give me her name.

"Alice."

"Alice," I began. "I'm Bella, and you're sitting in my bed."

"Sorry, but it looks like you're hosting a slumber party."

She then started crying and laughing at the same time, and proceeded to fill me in on the events that brought her to the lounge, hysterical and clutching $600 shoes.

She was hyper. She was OCD. She desperately needed some Xanax. And by the end of the night, she was my best friend.

After college, I moved with Alice to Philadelphia. Her then-boyfriend-now-fiance, Jasper, was accepted into the University of Pennsylvania's graduate program in history. Alice did not even entertain the idea of a long distance relationship with him, nor was she willing to give up having me as her partner in crime. Besides, as she pointed out, I was going to be an English teacher; I could do that anywhere.

Moving east was easier than I ever would have imagined. Despite having only previously lived in small towns, I immediately settled into Philadelphia. I found a teaching job in South Jersey, and Alice soon found her calling as a personal shopper at Neiman Marcus. We lived together in Center City until about four months ago, when Jasper proposed to her. They bought an apartment together in Northern Liberties, a trendy up-and-coming neighborhood by the river. It was located in a converted warehouse with high ceilings, exposed brick and amazing views.

I stayed in our apartment by myself until the lease ran out, but I didn't feel comfortable living alone in the city. Lots of women do it all the time, but it wasn't me. I loved the culture that Philadelphia offered–the arts, the nightlife, the food–but I wasn't all that into city life itself. I contacted a real estate agent and found a twin in a small town across the river. I was still ten minutes by train from Alice, but now I had a house, a porch, and a small yard.

My new home seemed untouched by time. It had been built sometime around 1920, and had the original hardwood floors, a built-in corner cabinet in the dining room, beautiful wood trim and a fireplace that screamed, "Curl up with a book in front of me." The enclosed front porch would serve as the perfect place to unwind after long days teaching and the postage-stamp sized backyard was just large enough for the occasional barbecue.

There were no words for the intense feeling of pride I felt as I walked into the house I'd purchased entirely on my own. When I reached the kitchen, I noticed a stainless steel ice bucket, a bottle of chilled Veuve Cliquot, four stemless flutes, and an envelope with my name on it. I opened it to find a card from my real estate agent welcoming me to New Jersey and congratulating me on becoming a homeowner.

Alice and Jasper were due over this afternoon to help with the move, and I knew should wait for them to toast with me, but this was house for me and me alone. I loosened the top of the bottle and popped it open. The cork hit the plaster ceiling with a thud, but it didn't even leave a smudge.

I spent the next two hours in blissful silence sitting on the floor of my empty living room, sipping champagne and day dreaming about paint swatches. When I realized it was mid-afternoon and I hadn't heard from Alice, I fished my iPhone out of my purse. There were fifteen missed calls. Alice was going to be pissed.

I sighed and called her back.

She answered immediately. "Bella! Where are you?"

"Home." It felt so good to say that.

"No, you're not," she huffed. "I'm at the apartment, and you're not here."

"I meant I was home in New Jersey."

"No one considers New Jersey home."

She was still being a bitch about the fact I didn't buy in the same building as she and Jasper. It was a moot point–I couldn't have afforded it even if I'd wanted to stay in the city. In all honesty, if not for her parents, they wouldn't have been able to afford it, either.

"Are the guys just about finished?" I asked.

"Yes. We have everything loaded into the truck and should be leaving momentarily."

"You're amazing."

"I know. Oh, and we have a surprise coming for you as well. If a guy shows up and asks for Jasper, just let him in."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"Go with it," she dictated before ending the call.

I had to smile. _Going with it _was how I got here, and now I was exactly where I wanted to be.


	3. Woman at the Piano

**chapter two**

**woman at the piano**

* * *

My doorbell snapped me back to reality. Its simple, old-school chime was a huge improvement over the harsh buzzer at my apartment that had sounded more like an electrocution than an enticement to open the front door. I expected to find Jasper and Alice, but was instead greeted by the largest guy I've ever seen.

"You must be Bella. I'm guessing Jasper and Alice haven't made it yet? I'm Emmett, I go to Penn with Jasper. So, where would you like it?"

"Where would I like what?"

"The piano. Though it's just a spinet, I highly doubt you'd be able to move it on your own. So before the guys and I leave, you should be sure of where you want it."

"I don't have a piano."

He smiled and gestured me outside. Four men were moving a dark wooden piano towards my porch.

Alice yelled from the window of the moving van, "Surprise! Don't just stand there like a dumbass, Bella. Tell the guys where you want it to go."

Still in shock, I went back inside and gestured toward the interior wall of my living room. I quickly got out of the way and watched as they counted to three and lowered the piano. I hadn't realized Alice followed me inside until I heard her voice behind me.

"Happy housewarming. Now maybe you can finally learn to play."

I turned around and hugged my best friend. "Thank you so much, Alice. This was really too much."

"Actually, it was nothing. One of Jasper's professors was getting rid of it, free to a good home. Jazz knew you'd always wanted one, so he claimed it. It will need to be tuned before you can start taking lessons."

Jasper walked into the room, carrying a load of boxes. As soon as he put them down, I ran over to him and threw my arms around him.

"Thank you for thinking of me."

He hugged me tightly. "It was the least I could do, considering I've stolen your roommate from you. If you insist, you can thank me later with beer at McGillin's."

"Done," I agreed, stepping away from him. "Now let's get cracking boys. I only took two days off from school to move. Bright and early Monday morning I go back to beating grammar into unwilling freshmen."

The rest of the move went very quickly. By the time everyone left, I had my bedroom put together, my clothing put away, and my kitchen cabinets organized. I climbed into my bed and in the silence of a winter night, I could hear the train to Philly running on the other side of town. I fell asleep smiling, knowing my friends were just that train ride away.

I woke up about twelve hours later feeling wonderful. I puttered downstairs to my kitchen, started the coffee pot, and reached for my bright red mug, marveling at how easily my old routine melted into my new surroundings. After I finished my coffee, I showered in my claw-foot tub. Climbing in and out of it was an exercise in coordination, and I made a mental note that henceforth drunken showers would be out of the question.

I threw on make-up, jeans, and a slim-fitting black sweater, an outfit Alice would refer to as my uniform. I grabbed my coat and bag, stepped into a pair of flats, and jetted through the front door to the train station.

Contrary to what Alice claims, I am not lacking in style; I'm just not as stylish as she is. In all fairness to me, very few women are. She's delicate and pale, with eyes strikingly similar to the saucers that came with my cobalt blue Fiestaware place setting and naturally black hair that falls to her shoulders in soft, face-framing waves. Add to that a clothing collection that would put the_ Sex and the City_ girls to shame, and you have a modern style icon.

Physically, the only thing Alice and I have in common is our pale skin-tone. I have long, dark brown hair and brown eyes. I'm on the lower end of average height and the smaller end of average build. Whenever Alice criticizes my attire, I remind her that the constant male attention I receive indicated that I must be doing something right. Though I've been single for about four years now, it's been by choice and I'm far from celibate. When I want a man, I have him. I just don't typically want one for longer than one night at a time.

When forced to indicate my relationship status, my adjective of choice was unencumbered. Single implied that I'm looking for a husband, and I was not. Single and not looking evoked imagery of a pathetic woman living alone with several cats while crocheting afghans for coworkers and wallowing in weekly Emily Dickinson poetry induced, Ben and Jerry fueled pity parties. Alice was on strict instruction to shoot me and dump my body in the Delaware River if I ever turned into that.

Once in Center City, I took a cab over to the Art Museum. I wasn't meeting Alice and Jasper for a few hours, and the Philadelphia Museum of Art was one of my favorite places to spend an evening alone. On Friday evenings, they held Art After 5, a high-brow happy hour with live music and cocktails in the Great Stair Hall.

It was the perfect way to begin the weekend. I'd unwind by listening to the music while staring at the statue of Diana. I wandered into the museum, saw a jazz quartet setting up and was instantly excited. I headed over to the modern wing to visit a few of my favorite paintings while waiting for the music to begin.

When it did, it was heavenly.

I got myself a glass of wine and stood on the periphery of the Great Stair Hall. Despite the fact I was indoors, there was a slight breeze which made it so easy for me to close my eyes and melt away with the music. I stayed like this even after the band finished their first set, until a quiet voice behind me broke through my haze.

"Would you care for another glass?"

"Excuse me?"

A very young man came around in front of me and peeled my empty glass from my grip, replacing it with a full one. His fingers briefly brushed against mine, and I felt a flutter in my pelvis. Shocked by my physical reaction to such an innocent gesture, I took a good look at him.

He was absolutely breathtaking–tall and toned, with wild red hair and bright green eyes. As he smiled down at me, the corners of his mouth formed tiny wrinkles.

I stood there, staring at him dumbly, unable to speak.

"Do you always react this way when a man buys you a drink?"

Articulation reclaimed me.

"That depends. Is the man in question old enough to legally consume the aforementioned beverage?"

His smile grew wider. "Touchè."

I laughed. It wouldn't hurt to play along. He was gorgeous, and flirting with him seemed harmless enough.

"Thank you for this." I nodded with a small smile as I raised my glass to my lips.

"You're welcome, Miss Swan."

I choked on my wine.

Miss Swan?

Did he just call me Miss Swan?

I took another long look at him. He was definitely not a student of mine. Besides, I taught high school. He didn't look that young.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I asked him.

"I'm Edward. Edward Cullen. I don't believe we've ever formally met."

Edward Cullen.

I knew the name. He was the cause of all sorts of chatter in the teachers' lounge. He was a genius. Brilliant. Perfect scores on every standardized test he ever took. I never had him in class because he skipped ninth grade. Some teachers considered it an honor to teach him, and others resented him because they had to redesign their lesson plans to keep him amused. Everyone found him fascinating. Meanwhile, here he stood, flirting with me at the Art Museum after buying me alcohol.

How was this possible?

Could he even drive yet?

He held out his hand, and I timidly shook it.

I needed to calm down. It was just a handshake. There was no reason for me to feel it in my knees, but shit, I felt it in my knees, as well as a few other places…

Fuck.

I quickly pulled my hand away.

He smiled again, but this time he was blushing ever so slightly. For lack of a better word, he was adorable.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he began timidly. "I was just excited to see a somewhat familiar face here. I thought maybe until the music started again you might want to walk through some of the collections with me, but it seems like it may have been a bad idea. In which case, I'm sorry if you think I've behaved inappropriately. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and maybe I'll see you around school next week. Goodnight, Miss Swan."

He turned to leave, and I found myself calling out to him.

"Ms." I corrected.

He pivoted on his heel. "Excuse me?"

"Ms. Swan. I find 'miss' outdated and borderline offensive. Tell me, Edward, would you like to be verbally defined solely by your marital status?"

Looking dumbfounded, he slowly shook his head.

"Then I'm sure you can imagine why I would feel the same way. Now, which collections did you have in mind?"

"Nineteenth century European?" His answer came out sounding more like a question.

I swallowed the remainder of my wine and placed my empty glass on a nearby table as I passed Edward and headed toward the appropriate wing. He stayed almost cemented in place until I gestured for him to join me. Instantly he was by my side, and we made our way into the exhibition gallery.

He was so obviously nervous, I couldn't help but tease him.

"So, come here often?" I asked playfully.

He laughed. "Yes, actually, though usually just when they have a jazz group playing."

"That's right, you're a musician. I've heard that you're very talented."

That was quite possibly the understatement of the decade. Edward was a piano prodigy. I'd watched two music teachers practically get into a fist fight over who would get to have him in class. Now that I'd thought about it, I'd heard quite a bit about Edward Cullen. I just had a difficult time reconciling what I knew with the soft-speaking man-boy beside me.

"Do you play any instruments, Miss…I mean Ms…Swan?"

Good boy. He was paying attention.

"I sing a little. I've always wanted to learn to play the piano but never had the opportunity until yesterday, actually."

"And what changed yesterday?"

"My two best friends gave me a piano as a housewarming gift," I explained. "Now I just have to hire a music teacher."

He perked up instantly. "I would be happy to give you lessons."

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You aren't asking me. I'm offering."

"Don't you have enough going on with all of your classes and extra-curricular activities and whatnot?"

He threw his head back and laughed, a sound I decided that I loved.

"You really have no idea, do you?"

I looked at him blankly, and he continued speaking.

"Why don't I put this another way. There is nothing I would rather do."

"Would your parents mind?"

He smirked. "Um, no."

We passed The Moorish Chief, and I sighed. "I love this painting."

"Really?" he asked.

"You seem surprised."

"I am, actually. It doesn't seem like you."

"Based on the twenty minutes you've been in my acquaintance, what would seem like me?" My tone was a bit more flirty than it should be, but I couldn't help myself.

"Something more like the Ashcan school. More modern. Like Hopper."

I was dumbfounded. After knowing me for less than half an hour, Edward was able to guess my favorite artist.

"I do like Hopper." I decided to ignore this for the moment. "What I love about The Moorish Chief is how Charlemont captured the light and the white on white on his robe. It's stunning. But you're right in the sense that it isn't something I would hang on my wall." The sound of the jazz quartet echoed through the corridor. "They've started again. We should go back before you miss the rest of the performance."

"If that's what you'd like." He almost sounded disappointed.

"What would you like, Edward?"

He placed his hand on the small of my back and gently turned me around before gesturing to a bench in a small alcove off the main gallery. "I'd like to have a seat and continue our conversation, but only if it's okay with you."

I walked over to the bench and sat down. "So, you were saying?"

He gave me a glorious smile and took a seat at my side.

"Hopper seems much more like you."

"Hopper is my favorite artist. Are you actually inside my head, or are you just oddly perceptive?"

"I spend a lot of time watching people. It's easy to do when you're perpetually excluded. Most are fairly transparent," he explained.

"Present company included, no doubt."

"Actually, Ms. Swan, I find you very difficult to read."

"How are things for you, Edward?" I changed the subject. For whatever reason, the thought of hearing his perceptions of me made me extremely self-conscious.

"It's better than it was. I've never felt all that comfortable around my peers. When I was in grade school it wasn't too bad, but when I went straight to tenth grade from junior high school, I was barely fourteen years old. I was little, and I was different. It was terrifying. I was so sure I'd end up stuffed in a locker that I started spending hours each afternoon lifting weights. Now no one harasses me, but no one talks to me, either. It's like I'm not even there.

"My parents are great though. My father is the best friend I could ever want, and my mother has never been anything but supportive. It more than makes up for everything else. At least, I tell myself it does; admittedly, I wouldn't really know, but I don't feel like I'm missing anything. None of the whole high school thing holds any appeal to me. I kind of pity the people who claim these are the best years of their lives. For me, it's been purgatory at best and the third circle of Dante's Inferno at worst."

"Don't knock the third circle. Cerberus makes one hell of a house pet."

"Pun intended, I'm sure."

He missed nothing.

"What's next for you then? I'm sure you have grand plans."

"Well, I only have four months left and then I'm on to hopefully better things."

"College." I smiled.

"Princeton," he corrected.

I should have known.

"You know, Edward, this isolation and feeling in limbo is just temporary. No one of any substance actually enjoys high school."

"Is that's why you decided to spend your entire life there?" he asked playfully.

"It's different when you're being paid."

"Most things are."

"Like piano lessons, for instance."

I still couldn't believe he wanted to be my piano teacher.

"Piano lessons are a wonderful example."

"What is your fee?"

"I wasn't planning on charging you," he admitted.

"You should charge me. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"It's not possible to take advantage of the willing."

I noticed that the music ended and people were clearing out. I was late to meet Jasper and Alice.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath.

Edward looked surprised.

"I'm sorry," I explained. "I wasn't planning on staying this long, and I have friends waiting for me across town. I shouldn't have sworn in front of you, though I'm sure you've heard much worse. Wait, how old are you, anyway?"

"A hundred and seven," he said with a smirk.

"I'm serious."

"I am, too. There are days when I feel like I'm a hundred and seven. My father says I was born middle-aged. If that's case, I should be geriatric by now."

I rolled my eyes, and he finally answered me.

"Sixteen."

Sixteen.

He didn't seem sixteen. He seemed…well…he seemed like me. Like I could invite him to McGillan's with me for karaoke with my friends and he would fit right in. Except I couldn't do that because he was a student at my school, and they card at the door at McGillan's.

If he hadn't called me by my name, I wouldn't have thought to ask his age. I would have assumed he was nineteen or twenty and would probably be making out with him on Drury Alley right now. Alice would make Cat Woman comments because I was being a cougar. Jasper would salute me with Mrs. Robinson when he took his turn at karaoke.

It would all have been so easy, and come Monday morning I would have been fucked.

Sixteen?

Six fucking teen?

There's nothing easy about sixteen. Sixteen sucked. Sixteen wasn't even legal, was it?

I needed to snap out of it.

"Well, Edward, I had a lovely time with you tonight."

He shook his head, almost in disbelief, and looked down at his hands which were crossed in his lap.

The thought that I may bruise his ego with my rapid departure was completely repugnant to me. I enjoyed every moment with him, and I needed him to that know that. Almost of its own accord, my hand reached over and gently nudged his face up toward mine. When we made eye contact, he seemed so dejected.

"Truly," I assured him.

His green eyes seemed to brighten, and one corner of his mouth turned up in a hesitant smile.

"Now, about those piano lessons. I'll need to make sure it's okay with your parents."

I was crazy. Associating with him was playing with fire, and I knew it.

"Give me your phone," he said.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my iPhone, glancing quickly at the screen. There were seven missed calls, all from Alice. I would have a bit of explaining to do.

He took it from my hands and started typing. "Here's my cell number."

He handed it back to me, and I returned it to my purse. We walked to the coat check in silence. I retrieved my pea coat, which he insisted on helping me into, while he waited for his jacket.

"Would you like me to hail you a cab?" he asked.

Was he kidding?

"They line up out front, Edward. I think I can handle it. Good night, and thank you again."

The frigid February air blew into my face, snapping me out of my haze.

Sixteen.

I was fucked.


	4. Just as the Twig Is Bent

**chapter three**

**just as the twig is bent**

* * *

I leaned back and kept the windows of the cab open, hoping the cold air would clear my head. It was just the Art Museum and a little conversation; I'd done nothing inappropriate. I reached for my phone and sent Alice a quick text message telling her I lost track of time and that I would be there soon. Then I clicked on my contacts and scrolled to the letter C. There were two new entries—one for Edward Cullen and a second for a Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

What the fuck?

I clicked on the entry for Carlisle and saw a note at the bottom that read, "In case you don't trust me to ask him myself."

Did Edward want me to call his father? The cab turned down Sansom Street, and I decided I wasn't going to think about it. I paid the driver and hurried down the alley to the bar. If I hadn't needed a drink before, I sure as hell did now.

After flashing my ID to the bouncer, I walked inside and scanned the room. I found Alice and Jasper at a table with Emmett and a blonde woman I didn't recognize. I worked my way through the crowd and sat down with them.

"Finally," Alice said when she saw me. "What took you so long? Did you get lost? Or did you meet some dude and sneak into a stairwell for a quickie? Tell me, what's his name? Oh wait, not relevant as we won't ever be meeting him." She turned to the mystery woman. "We never meet her conquests."

"I didn't fuck anyone in a stairwell. It's not like that. I actually ran into a guy who goes to my school, a senior in fact. We talked about art for a while, and I lost track of time."

"A senior, huh?" Alice asked. "So he's eighteen. He's an adult, that makes him legal. Are you sure there wasn't any stairwell action?"

I rolled my eyes at her.

"Actually," the blonde said, "the age of consent in Pennsylvania is sixteen. I'm Rose, by the way. I'm Emmett's girlfriend."

"I'm Bella." I held out my hand to shake hers. "And it doesn't matter, because like I've already said, nothing happened. I'd ask how you came to be an expert on statutory rape laws, Rose, but I'm not sure I want to know the answer. Besides, I live in New Jersey."

"I'm an attorney," Rose explained. "It's the same in New Jersey, though the fact he is a student where you teach places him in a subordinate position to you which does complicate things. When he graduates, he's fair game. Remove the teacher/student relationship, and legally sixteen is ripe for sexing." She winked suggestively.

"Oh my god," Alice wailed. "You did not just say that."

"That's my girl!" Emmett beamed with pride at Rose.

"I'm kind of appalled that you all find this so easy to joke about," I admitted.

"Bella, lighten up." Jasper poured a lager from the pitcher on the table and placed it in front of me. "We know nothing happened. The idea that you would have public sex with a student is completely ridiculous, therefore it has great comedic potential. We know you better than to think you'd ever go there. If nothing else, you've always been responsible. Kind of slutty, but responsible."

"Though the way you're reacting to us is starting to make me wonder." Alice spoke quietly enough so that only I could hear her and shot me a very serious look.

Before she could press me for more information, the waitress arrived with another round. We fell into our normal routine of drinking and making fun of bad singers. Fifteen minutes later, no one remembered why I'd been late.

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully. Soon it was Monday morning, and I was getting ready to go to work. When we'd lived together, Alice regularly teased me about my teacher clothes, jokingly referring to my aesthetic as "middle-aged and frumpy chic". As I dressed in wide-legged pants and a loose sweater, I thought that couldn't be further from the truth. My work wardrobe differed vastly from what I wore off-hours, but I thought dressing the part was an absolute necessity given my age and relative inexperience. I may have been twenty-four, but I looked young enough that without my conservative attire, there would be no way to visually distinguish me from the students.

I was thrilled when it took me only ten minutes to drive to work. Not knowing what to expect, I had budgeted forty-five, giving me plenty of time to kill before homeroom. I wandered around the halls absentmindedly for a bit, until I heard someone playing Rachmaninoff's Romance on a Theme of Paganini. I stood outside the open door and listened, curious as to which of my colleagues was playing, but not wanting to interrupt.

When the piece concluded, I poked my head inside the classroom.

"That's one of my favorites," I said. "You did a beautiful job with it."

A head of disheveled auburn hair popped up from behind the upright piano, looking way too good for this early in the morning.

Edward.

I should have known.

"Thank you," he said. "It's one of mine as well."

I smiled and backed into the hallway, hurrying to the sanctuary of my classroom.

The rest of the week passed quickly, as did the three following it. Soon it was the middle of March, and everything was green again. I decided against calling Edward about the piano lessons. Even though I knew I'd done nothing inappropriate, I was fairly certain he had no idea that I'd entertained licentious thoughts about him. Social contact with Edward was a gray area, and as far as my career was concerned, I needed to have both feet firmly planted in the white zone.

I hadn't been back to the Art Museum since the night I met Edward, mostly because I'd had other obligations. Alice was in full-blown wedding planning mode, and as her maid-of-honor, she wanted me to join her at various appointments all over town. She knew she was becoming a bit of a bridezilla, but she didn't care. She'd wanted me to go see yet another possible venue with her this afternoon, but I needed some time to myself. I told her that I would meet her at McGillan's at six, and we could discuss wedding stuff then.

It was warm for March, but the air was heavy and damp. I felt almost wet by the time I reached the top of the steps leading to the museum's main entrance, and my hair started to frizz up. Though I'm vain enough to admit that this bothered me, I reminded myself that I wasn't trying to impress anyone. Once inside, I entered the nineteenth-century European wing. I offered a brief salute to The Moorish Chief, then headed to the back of the exhibition hall, stopping when I saw Edward sitting on the same bench we'd occupied the night we met. I wanted to back away, but he noticed me before I could. I smiled and tentatively approached him.

"Hello, Edward."

"Ms. Swan," he said curtly.

I sat down next to him. He said nothing, and he didn't look at me.

Shit. This was awkward.

A bit of time passed before he spoke.

"You never called." His voice was quiet and non-accusatory.

"I couldn't."

"Why?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Actually, I don't."

I sighed. "It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Why not? You're not one of my teachers."

"No, I'm not. But I do teach at your school, so I might as well be. I can't be at my house alone with you; I'm sure you understand why."

He looked genuinely confused. "I would never take advantage of you."

He had to be kidding. Did he honestly think that what worried me?

"I know."

We sat in silence for the next five minutes, as people buzzed past us.

"I'm sorry you feel uncomfortable with me." He sounded rather sad. "I don't feel uncomfortable with you. I'd seen you around school before, months before I finally got up the courage to speak to you. You're beautiful, but of course you know that. That's not the reason I feel drawn to you. I mean, it was initially. I am a guy, you know. But then you spoke to me like I was normal, like I was just anyone. No one has ever done that, not even once. And for that short amount of time, I could be me—not a genius, or a freak, or the asshole who blew the bell curve. Just me. It was the best time I've ever had. Even if I've scared you off, even if you never speak to me again, I need you to know that."

"Edward…." I struggled to find the courage to speak my mind. He got up to leave. I put my hand on the front of his leg to keep him with me. He sat back down, and my hand rested on his knee. I pulled it away quickly. "I don't speak to you as if you were just anyone, and I think maybe that's part of the problem."

His eyes met mine, and one corner of his mouth turned up into a tentative half smile. "Oh."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He nodded slowly. "What now?"

"Nothing has changed. You're still sixteen. You're still a student where I teach."

"May I call you Isabella?"

"Absolutely not."

"May I call you?"

I rolled my eyes at him, while simultaneously smiling at his brazenness.

"Maybe."

"Maybe isn't no." His voice held a hint of hope.

I stood up from the bench. I needed to be on time to meet Alice. I had no desire to explain to her that Edward made me late again. This time, she'd would never believe it was innocent.

I turned and looked at him one last time before leaving. He was adorable.

"It isn't yes, either."

I hurried out of the exhibition hall, knowing that if I lingered at all, he would convince me stay. Thankfully, I made it to the bar before Alice. I grabbed us a table and ordered a pitcher of lager. It had just been served when Alice breezed in, barely able to contain her excitement.

"I think I found it!"

"That's awesome. Wait, what did you find?"

"The venue. I put down a deposit and everything. They had a cancellation in late September and I didn't want to take my chances. I'm sure Jazz won't mind. It's my day after all. Of course, that doesn't give us much time to plan–"

"Wait, what? Where?"

"Did you know that they have weddings at the Water Works now? Can you imagine the view? You have Boathouse Row one side and the Art Museum on the other. The pictures will be amazing."

"Why, are you planning on dressing up as Rocky Balboa?"

"Don't be a bitch; this is a big moment for me."

"I'm sorry. Should I have the waitress bring champagne instead?"

"No, I'm happy with the Yuengling, but we're going to toast," she insisted.

"Okay, then." I raised my glass. "To the perfect place for the beginning of forever."

We clinked our glasses, and Alice cheered before raising her lager to her lips.

The next couple of hours, while it was still quiet enough for us to hear each other, she rattled on about the rest of her plans. I oohed and ahed at the right moments, but my mind was elsewhere.

Had I actually admitted to Edward that my feelings for him made me uncomfortable, and had he really asked permission to call me?

I excused myself as soon as Jasper, Rose, and Emmett arrived. I wasn't sure why, but I wanted to be alone. I walked to the train station and settled into a window seat on the Speed-line. I stared off into space as the underground tunnel became the bright lights of the Ben Franklin Bridge. This meant that I had a minute of cell phone service before the train went back underground.

Before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed my iPhone from my bag. I scrolled through the contacts until I found Edward's name. I quickly typed a text message.

_Yes, you may._

I knew he would know what I meant.

As soon as the train came back above ground, my phone vibrated. One new text message from Edward Cullen.

_Call you Isabella?_

I laughed out loud. I managed to send a reply before arriving at my station and shoving my iPhone back into my bag.

_No, Edward. Just call me._


	5. Improvisation No 29

**chapter four**

**improvisation no. 29 (the swan)**

* * *

I ran from the train station to my house, as if somehow rushing would make his phone call come sooner. As soon as I had my front door closed behind me, I reached for my phone. No calls, no texts. I made sure the ringer was turned on and poured myself a glass of wine before heading upstairs, wine in one hand and iPhone in the other. I washed my make-up off my face and changed into flannel pajama pants and a tank top. I wondered why he hadn't called. My mind raced through several scenarios before I realized I that my OCD was starting to rival that of Alice.

I flung myself onto my bed and settled myself in for the night. I was about to turn off the lamp beside my bed when my phone produced a single beep–a text message from Edward.

_Are you still awake?_

I decided to have a little fun with him.

_Are you?_

No more than ten seconds after I pressed send, my phone rang.

I answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Is this your usual Friday night routine? Art Museum in the afternoon, home before midnight?" Though his voice was as beautiful as ever, there was no denying he was nervous.

"I think it's safe to say that nothing about today has been usual. Though, I am curious. How did you know it was me?"

"I called you, Ms. Swan."

"No, I mean earlier when I sent you a text. I didn't sign it. You didn't have my number. How did you know it was me?"

He paused just long enough for me to know he thought before he spoke. "You have a Philadelphia area code."

"So do two million other people. Besides, I live in Jersey now."

"Fine, then. No one else besides my parents has my number." He paused. "Even so, I knew this time you'd contact me. I just wasn't sure when. Actually, I thought it would take you much longer. I was prepared for you to make me wait." He let out a small, nervous laugh.

I couldn't help but ask. "And would you have?"

"I would wait for you." All traces of humor were gone from his voice. "I would wait forever."

Shit.

Why did I think a phone call would be more appropriate than piano lessons? It removed the possibility of physical misconduct, yes, but now there were no false pretenses. At least piano lessons permitted the music ruse. There was no way I could delude myself into believing this phone call was anything other than exactly what it was.

He had feelings for me.

Though everything about him–his age, his complete lack of experience, his social awkwardness with his peers–would point to it being nothing more than a teenage crush on the first member of the opposite sex to show him the slightest bit of kindness, I somehow knew better and I didn't want to trivialize him. He was young, yes, but something told me he had a more realistic sense of self, a better handle on who he was and what he wanted than most men twice his age. He desired me but did not wish to pressure me. It would be wrong, immoral even, to encourage him, yet that was exactly what I found myself wanting to do.

I was terrified.

"I've made you uncomfortable again."

"No, you haven't," I lied.

"Don't patronize me with dishonesty."

He was right. He deserved better than that from me.

I sighed. "Yes, I am a bit uncomfortable with this."

"Then may I ask you one question before saying goodnight?" He took my silence as assent. "I have a feeling that that first night at the Art Museum, under any other circumstances…if I were anyone else… our evening would have ended much differently. Am I correct?"

Though I could not have found my voice at that moment if I'd wanted to, I was fairly certain it would be best not to speak.

"It's okay, Ms. Swan. You don't have to answer. I think I already know, and I shouldn't keep you any longer. Good night."

I sat there unmoving with my phone in my hand for several minutes before placing it on my night stand and shutting off my lamp. I was in more trouble than I would have thought possible–this thing between Edward and me was mutual.

The rest of the weekend went by without incident, as did the several that followed. Saturdays were always filled with errands and obligations, and on Sundays I was Bridezilla's bitch. As obnoxious as she was being, I found myself feeling somewhat grateful that Alice's wedding planning was taking up so much of my time. By the time I fell into my bed each night, I was emotionally and physically spent. And though every spare moment I had was filled with thoughts of Edward, thankfully I did not have many of them.

April and May flew by, a whirlwind of dress fittings, food tastings, and work obligations. I bought an old, art deco dining room set off Craigslist. I loved cooking way too much not to have a place to sit down and eat properly. I furnished one of the spare bedrooms with a flat-screen television on the wall, a pull-out couch, and my books. My living room remained empty, except for the piano. For some bizarre reason, I found myself enamored of the idea that the first floor of my home was completely void of any modern furnishings. I offered my guests food, wine, and conversation. When my friends came over, we concentrated on each other's company rather than a movie or a television show.

I also found myself growing closer to Emmett's girlfriend, Rose. Since Emmett was slated to be Jasper's best man, Alice had asked Rose if she would be a bridesmaid. Rose agreed, but made it clear that she was not signing up to be part of Alice's wedding planning entourage. Despite her reticence to "encourage the insanity", as she put it, she always made herself available to me for bridezilla-free bonding.

One night, Rose and I found ourselves at a Cuban BYOB a few blocks away from my house. Rose and Emmett also lived in South Jersey, renting the guest cottage of an enormous Victorian home located in the town in which I taught. We poured ourselves some sangria and snacked on some plantain frites while we waited for our entrees. The better I got to know Rose, the more I liked her. Besides looking remarkably like the gorgeous blonde on Gossip Girl, she was funny as hell, incredibly smart, and fiercely independent.

I fumbled with the stem of my wine glass. "So, tell me about you and the big guy."

"Emmett?" she asked. "Well, we've been together for about a year now. It's good. What about you? Alice made it sound like you swap out men the way she swaps out lip gloss."

"That's kind of an exaggeration."

"Maybe," she said. "The way she talks, though, your conquests are legendary. Meanwhile, I haven't seen you so much as look at a guy in the four months I've known you."

"I've been busy, you know. Settling into a new routine, setting up my house, being Alice's bitch."

She laughed.

"Seriously, she takes up so much of my time with wedding crap, I haven't three hours in a row to spare to find a guy and fuck him."

"Three hours, huh?"

"Well, I need half an hour to meet a guy and invite him home with me. Even I don't work faster than that." I winked suggestively.

"That's all it is, huh? Cockblocked by Bridezilla?"

"What else would it be?" I'd been careful not to mention Edward to any of my friends since the night I met him.

"Well, we all grow up sooner or later. Priorities change." She shrugged. "Believe me, I would know."

"Would you now?"

Now this was fun. Alice was my polar opposite when it came to men. She'd had exactly one sexual partner, and she was about to marry him. I'd never had a girlfriend with whom I could dish about sex and dating.

"Let me preface this by saying that since meeting Emmett, I've only wanted him," she clarified.

"Of course."

"Before that, I so had you beat," she boasted. "I could scope out a guy, make my move, and be headed off somewhere to get busy in fifteen minutes."

I laughed so hard sangria came out of my nose.

"Seriously, do you know what law school is like? It's not like you have any free time," she justified.

"Did meeting Emmett change that?"

"Kind of. I'd been thinking for a while that I was ready to have more than flings. And then when I met Emmett, five minutes into flirting shamelessly I realized I didn't just want him for the evening. I wanted him for good. I still brought him home with me that night. I just didn't kick him out an hour and a half later. It was tricky, at first. I'd had no experience doing the relationship thing. He is still in school, and I am very focused on my career. I'm older than he is, and we're in different places. It's a balancing act, but it's been worth it."

"Do you work very long hours?" I asked.

"You have no idea. I never expected it would be like this. I thought when I finished school at the top of my class, I'd be home free. I didn't realize I'd still need to constantly prove myself."

"And now you have Alice to deal with on top of everything else." I was only partially kidding.

"Shit, Bella." She downed another gulp of sangria. "That chick will be the death of me. Maybe I lack the girl gene or something, I don't know. But I'm having a hard time relating to this whole wedding-of-the-decade thing. Last week she called me and I was in a meeting. She told my assistant it was an emergency. Alice sounded frantic so she put her through. Want to know what the emergency was? Slip-covers. The slip-covers she ordered for the reception were a slightly different fabric content than the table cloths. She wanted to know if I thought anyone would notice."

"That's Alice."

"That's psychotic."

"I know. I just remind myself she'd do it for me, and that this whole thing will be over in a few months and we'll be back to normal. Or, normal for Alice, anyway."

"She wants me to come to the menu tasting Monday. Not going to happen. I have a deposition."

"She'll be pissed," I warned.

"Oh, just wait." Rose smiled devilishly, and I knew she was up to no good.

The following Monday, Alice paced the floor at the caterer's.

"Where the hell is she? She knows how important this is." Alice huffed as the caterer placed a plate of hors d'oeuvres in front of her. Alice tasted one and was immediately distracted. "Bella, you should try one of these. My mother says these mushroom are a very big deal."

The door opened and in breezed a very pretty black-haired woman who appeared to be a few years older than we were. She was wearing a gray suit and seemed as if she was on a mission.

"Sorry I'm late." She sat down and threw a mushroom into her mouth. "No. This is all wrong. Excuse me!" She snapped her fingers and gestured the caterer over. "I'm not sure what kind of operation you are running here, but I believe Alice here requested matsutake mushrooms. You can't coat any old fungus in sauce and pretend it doesn't make a difference. Don't even think of pulling this at the wedding."

Alice and I looked at each other in shock.

"And you are?" I asked the stranger in front of us.

"Leah, Rose's assistant. She couldn't make it today and sent me in her place." Leah picked at the appetizer tray, trying one of each. "The rest of these are fine. Personally, I think the bruschetta is too salty, but you may disagree."

"Wait, let me get this straight," Alice wailed. "Rose sent her secretary? That's it. Her new bridesmaid dress will be Pepto Bismol pink. I'm putting a bow on her ass and keying her BMW. I can't believe she would just blow me off like this."

"She didn't blow you off." I was trying hard not to laugh. "She delegated. By the looks of it, she did a damn good job. Leah, how do you know so much about food?"

"I went to culinary school," she informed us. "Still pissed, Alice? Because I can leave."

"No!" Alice insisted. "Stay. Besides, I think I'm starting like you more than I like Rose anyway. Have any plans for the last weekend in September? I may be down a bridesmaid."

Leah laughed, gave Alice several bits of useful information, and offered to accompany her on any additional food related missions. It turned out Rose was even smarter than I'd thought she was.

I found myself thinking a bit more about what Rose had said regarding changing priorities. I realized I hadn't had sex since right before I met Edward. That had to be just a coincidence. Besides, I hadn't been entertaining fantasies about having a relationship him. He was a kid, despite the fact that when I was with him, it was very easy to forget that.

I hadn't heard from Edward since that night he called me in March. Once in a while I would catch a glimpse of him in a corridor at school, lost in the sea of students. He was just as striking as ever, but looking less boyish each time I saw him. It came as a complete surprise when he sent me a text message one afternoon in early June. I had just arrived home from teaching, after being caught in a thunderstorm. The sun broke through the clouds, but only after I had been thoroughly soaked from the rain.

_Are you home?_

Strange question, after all this time, but I decided to humor him. I immediately responded that I was.

_Go outside and look toward the city._

Still dripping wet, I went back outside and walked out to the sidewalk. I faced west and looked toward the sky. It was breathtaking. There was a rainbow over the roofs of the homes across the street from me. Wondering if there was more to see, I walked to end of my block from where I could see the Philadelphia skyline. There I saw it–a complete, perfect arch. I watched transfixed until it faded from view, still dripping wet from the downpour. I slowly returned home to find another message waiting for me.

_Brilliant, isn't it? I thought of you when I saw it._

I responded, knowing that although I would regret what I was about to say to Edward, I would regret not saying it far more.

_I miss you._

Five minutes later I received a reply:

_I miss you, too._


	6. People at Night

**chapter five**

**people at night, guided by the phosphorescent tracks of snails**

* * *

The school year was over in a flash. Creating and grading final exams was always time consuming, as was packing up a classroom and saying goodbye to students. The next thing I knew, it was the twentieth of June, and I was walking along with the rest of the faculty in the graduation processional.

We were instructed to wear our own gowns and hoods from our respective colleges and graduate schools. My first year teaching, I thought it was hilarious. Here was a day that was supposed to be about our students, and the teaching staff was trying to one-up each other by showing off who had the more prestigious degrees. I borrowed a plain black robe from the choir room and got in the black of the line, joking that I wouldn't dream of messing up my hair with academic head gear.

Once seated, I nearly dozed off. I hadn't been teaching long enough to have had any of this year's graduates in my classroom. Had my attendance not been required, I would have happily skipped the evening's ceremony. I suppose I should have wanted to see Edward receive his diploma, but the reminder of his age made me more than a little uncomfortable. I day dreamed about summer until a very familiar voice jolted me back into the present.

Edward was speaking into the microphone. I'm not sure why it hadn't occurred to me that he would be giving a speech. After all, he was valedictorian.

His remarks were brief and modest. He expressed his gratitude to his teachers and his best wishes to his classmates. The whole thing lasted about two minutes, and I found myself wondering if his discomfort was as palpable to the rest of his audience as it was to me.

Soon the ceremony was over, and the rest of the faculty and I made our way to a reception for the graduates and their families. I helped the cafeteria staff with refreshments, killing time until the buses left for the school-sponsored graduation party. There would be swimming, food, dancing, and various other chaperoned activities ending at six o'clock the following morning. The assumption was that by that time, the Class of 2009 would be too exhausted to get into any trouble. I thought the party planning committee greatly underestimated the stamina of today's youth, but I kept this opinion to myself.

I was replenishing the soda when I heard a voice behind me.

"No graduate school, Ms. Swan? Somehow, I would have expected more from you."

At times like these, I hated teaching in such a wealthy school district. Some of these kids were such snobby little shits.

I responded without missing a beat. "I was paying homage to Virginia Woolf. Perhaps you should read _Three Guineas_over the summer. When classes resume, I would be happy to discuss it with you."

His ensuing laughter gave me the overwhelming feeling that I'd just fucked up utterly. I slowly turned around to find a man who despite his exceptionally good looks, was obviously too old to be in high school.

Oh fuck.

"I'm so sorry. I thought–"

"Don't worry about it, Ms. Swan." He was still laughing. "Though now I can see why Edward likes you so much. I'm Carlisle Cullen, Edward's father."

Double fuck.

Shit.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Dr. Cullen didn't know I'd had inappropriate thoughts about Edward. Hell, _Edward_ didn't know I'd had inappropriate thoughts about Edward. I could do this.

Dr. Cullen had addressed me by name, which implied that Edward told him about me. It made sense; Edward did say that his father was his best friend. Pretending I didn't know him would seem shadier than admitting that I did, wouldn't it?

"Dr. Cullen." I held out my hand to him, and he shook it. "It's nice to meet you; please call me Bella."

"In that case, call me Carlisle. Besides, any friend of my son is a friend of mine."

"You must be very proud."

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

"We are. Today is his birthday which makes it all that much more special. Speaking of, I should find him. Good to meet you, Bella. I'm certain our paths will cross again." He smiled before disappearing into the crowd.

I knew I'd spend hours analyzing our exchange when I got home, but for now I had a job to do. After I finished helping with the reception, I boarded one of the many school buses filled with students and chaperones headed for the graduation party at the Y.M.C.A.

Once we arrived, everyone changed into more casual attire. I was wearing a simple black sun dress under my borrowed choir robe and felt comfortable enough that I didn't feel compelled to change, despite the fact it was going to be a very long night. There wasn't all that much for us to do. I found a table in the gymnasium where the students were dancing and took a seat.

"How did they rope you into this?"

I looked up to see Joe, one of the biology teachers, sitting next to me.

I smiled at him and shrugged. "I'm not tenured. I had a choice between this, the senior trip to Florida, or the prom. Since the mere mention of Florida gives me sunburn and I didn't even go to my own prom, this was the obvious choice. Next year will be more fun though. By then I will have at least taught some of the graduating class. Spending a night with them before they head out into the world will be kind of nice."

He gave me a knowing nod.

"Is this it all night? We just sit here and make sure no sneaks in booze?" I asked.

"Or has sex on the dance floor. That's also a no-no," Joe informed me.

"Good to know."

He glanced across the room and rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"See, that's something that just pisses me off about this graduation party thing. See that over there?" He gestured to the bleachers on the other side of the room where Edward sat alone in a corner.

"Edward Cullen?" I tried to sound blasé.

"Yes. Do you know him?"

Apparently, I was unsuccessful.

"A little. I've run into him around town a couple of times."

"Then you know he's a good kid. Very close with his parents. He had his pick of the Ivy League and would never jeopardize his future by doing something stupid the night he graduated high school. And here he is. Forced to spend the evening hanging around kids who treated him like a pariah the past three years because the school requires it. He's on to better things next year, hopefully with people who will finally appreciate him. But before that, he has to sit through eight more hours of being snubbed. Ridiculous."

I nodded my agreement, not sure what to say. Then the DJ played a slow song, and I knew what to do.

"Excuse me." I rose from the table and walked to the bleachers where Edward sat by himself.

"Hey." I hoped my voice didn't convey my nervousness. "Would you like dance?"

"Yes." He leapt to his feet and extended his arm.

I placed my hand in his, and he led me to the edge of the dance floor. Realizing I hadn't thought this through, I took a step back from him and shook my head, smiling in mild embarrassment.

"I should have warned you. I don't dance."

"Not at all?"

"No. I mean, obviously I _have_ danced before, I'm just not very good at it."

"I am. I'll lead; just move with me." He placed my hand on his upper arm and held me at the small of my back.

Before I knew it, we were gliding in our own orbit as I counted beats in my head.

"Am I actually waltzing?" I asked in disbelief.

"You are indeed. Quite well, in fact."

The song ended far too soon. When it did, I broke contact and took two steps back. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but none of it was appropriate in our current surroundings. After an awkward pause, I found my voice.

"Happy birthday."

"How did you know?"

"Your father may have mentioned it."

Edward blushed, clearly embarrassed and more than a little annoyed. "I should have known he'd seek you out. I'm sorry if he made you uncomfortable."

"It's okay; I didn't mind. But I should be getting back to work now. Thank you for the dance."

I walked back to the table and reclaimed my seat next to Joe, who had been been joined by three other chaperones in my absence.

"That was very nice of you," he said. "For the record, I wasn't trying to guilt trip you into flirting with the kid."

"I know you weren't. Besides, it was nice. I'd never waltzed before."

Joe let out a small laugh. "I think you may have just made Edward's high-school existence."

"Oh, that was nothing. Now if I had given him my lecture on _The Canterbury Tales_, well, that is life-altering."

One of the other teachers looked over at me. "Is _The Canterbury Tales_ even part of ninth grade curriculum?"

"No, but I use excerpts from it to help illustrate the evolution of the English language," I explained.

The small talk continued, and I was grateful it was no longer about Edward. After a suitable amount of time, I excused myself. The rest of the night passed with agonizing slowness. By the time I arrived home and crawled into bed, I was too exhausted to consider how much had changed in the past twenty-four hours. The moment I closed my eyes, I drifted into a dreamless slumber.


	7. Given

**chapter six**

**given: 1. the waterfall, 2. the illuminating gas**

* * *

The first day of my summer vacation I slept well into the afternoon. I very carefully budgeted my salary during the school year, enabling me to spend my time off unencumbered by responsibility. I puttered into my kitchen and started the coffee pot. While I pondered breakfast, my iPhone chirped with a message from Edward:

_Meet me at the art museum at four. I'll be on our bench._

That gave me just enough time to shower, dress, and get myself over there. Food could wait. I chugged some coffee and ran upstairs to get ready.

After I finished in the bathroom, I stood in front of my closet in a daze. My fashion crisis was ridiculous; I didn't need to impress him. This wasn't a date, and even if it were, I never wasted time second guessing clothing choices. I settled on a white camisole and a black, knee length a-line skirt. The combination left a sliver of flesh exposed where the top ended and the waistband of the skirt began. It was slightly suggestive, but I went with it anyway. I put my hair up in a sloppy bun, stepped into flip-flops, grabbed my bag and caught the next train into town.

It seemed to take longer than usual to find my way to the European art wing, and my excitement about seeing Edward fueled my impatience. I rounded the corner toward our bench to find Edward waiting for me, wearing dark jeans and a fitted white T-shirt and looking far too tempting for his own good.

He rose to his feet when he saw me. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the exhibition hall.

We made our way through the galleries, keeping our conversation light.

"How does it feel to be a high school graduate?" I asked.

"Honestly? I feel as if I've just been paroled."

I chuckled.

"No, seriously. It's amazing."

"And you decided to spend your first day of freedom with Degas?" I gestured to the bronze sculpture in front of us.

"Wouldn't you?"

We rounded a corner before he spoke again; this time, his tone was serious. "No, that's not why I came here today. I wanted to spend some time with you, and I thought the Art Museum was my best chance at making that happen."

"Ah, subterfuge," I teased.

After passing a few Monets and a Renoir, he spoke again.

"Do you have anything planned for the summer?"

"Nothing whatsoever. My plans are to have no plans. My best friend, Alice, is getting married in September. She's been borderline psychotic about the whole wedding thing, so I'm sure she will keep me busy. There's also work to be done on my house, and I'd like to go to the beach when possible. Even without school, the next two months will probably fly by."

"Where are you from?"

"When did we start playing twenty questions?"

He laughed at my evasiveness; I decided that I loved his laugh.

"You mentioned going 'to the beach'. No one from around here would use that expression. We'd say 'down the shore'. This tells me that not only are you not from Philadelphia, but you haven't lived here long. Colloquialisms tend to be infectious."

I stopped walking and studied his face. I'd never met anyone who noticed so many tiny details.

"I'm from a small town in Washington State, near the Olympic peninsula."

"Is your family still there?"

"My father is, yes. I think my mother is in Florida."

"You're not close with them."

"No. They married at eighteen and had me soon after. My mother left when I was a baby. My father is a police officer who words nights; I was usually left with our neighbor."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be; it's fine."

"No, it isn't. Familial support is so empowering. It saddens me that so few persons experience it." He must have sensed my discomfort, because he quickly changed the subject. "What brought you to Philly?"

"I went to college in Ohio. I'd tell you the name of the school, but I doubt you've heard of it. They offered me a full ride, and I saw it as my opportunity to start living on my own terms. Let me tell you—setting foot on campus that first time was the most amazing feeling ever, and knowing I had no ties to home _was_ empowering in its own way. I met Alice my freshman year, and we became instant friends. We moved to Philadelphia together after graduation to be close to her fiancè, Jasper, who is at Penn. Alice and I lived in Center City until she moved in with him in December; I moved to Jersey earlier this year."

"That's it?" He sounded surprised. "No husbands? No children? No stalkers?"

"No," I confirmed, laughing.

"No boyfriends?"

Oh. I should have known Edward wouldn't do small talk.

"None worth mentioning."

"Any not worth mentioning?" His voice wavered ever so slightly.

"No."

He seemed to relax, and we passed the next several minutes pretending to pay attention to the artwork until Edward broke the silence.

"Do you have any plans next Saturday?"

I shook my head. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'd like to surprise you."

"I hate surprises."

"All surprises?"

"Yes, all surprises."

"You've _never_ had a good surprise?"

"No," I assured him. "Not that I can recall, anyway."

We reached the dimly-lit doorway at the far end of the modern art exhibition I'd always assumed was a service entrance. I turned around, thinking we'd start working our way back.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"We've seen everything in this gallery."

He took my hands and pulled me into the dark. Once my eyes refocused, I realized we were in a small room. The wall opposite us had a set of wooden doors with two small openings, set apart like peepholes. He stroked my knuckles with his thumbs as he led me to the doors.

"Have you never been back here?"

I shook my head; the amount of effort I was putting into ignoring my body's reaction to his touch rendered me incapable of speech.

"Go ahead," he said, stepping to the side. "Look."

I let go of his hands and peered through the peepholes. A nude woman was sprawled on a bed of twigs with her legs spread , her most private place on display for all to see. Gasping, I rose onto my toes to get a better look.

Then I felt it—Edward's hands rested on each of my hips, and his chest pressed against my back.

"Are you surprised?" His breath teased my ear as he spoke.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Would you consider it…unpleasant?" His tone was shockingly suggestive.

"No."

Placing a small amount of pressure on one of my hips, he turned me to face him. Keeping one hand on my waist, he dragged the other up my side. Carefully avoiding my breast, his fingertips slid over my rib cage, my shoulder, and my neck. He tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear, then angled my face toward his. The pad of his thumb grazed my face, from my cheekbone to my mouth, where it applied soft pressure to the center of my bottom lip. By the time my mind caught up with what was happening, he'd dropped his hands and stepped away.

I looked at him with what I could only describe as wonder.

"You aren't mad at me, are you?"

I shook my head.

"Isabella, please say something."

His use of my given name cut through my intoxication.

"Bella. I prefer Bella."

"Bella," he repeated, a triumphant smile spreading across his lips. "Are you meeting your friends tonight?"

I nodded.

"You should get going then."

I was still in a daze as we left the museum.

"About next Saturday," he said. "Can you be ready at six?"

Wait. Had I actually agreed to go on a date with a boy who less than twenty-four hours ago was still in high school? Thankfully, I was able to reclaim articulation.

"I don't recall saying yes."

"Bella," he said, laughing. "We both know you have no intention of _ever_ telling me no."

He opened the door of a waiting cab and gestured for me inside.

"Until Saturday then."

"Until Saturday." He waited until I was situated then shut the door.

As the cab moved into traffic, I replayed the past couple of hours. I wasn't sure which I found more surprising—the fact that Edward was brazen enough to almost kiss me, or that fact that I was disappointed he hadn't.

When I arrived at McGillin's, I was grateful to find Rose sitting alone.

"Bella! I'm so glad you made it. Alice called, Jasper and Emmett are running late and she's waiting for them. It's just us for another hour or so. I ordered a pitcher."

"I am so fucked." I sank into the chair and told her everything, starting at the very beginning.

She listened intently, only interrupting to order us another pitcher of beer.

"Seventeen? Okay, I have to ask, and don't get pissed off. Is this just about sex?"

"We haven't even kissed."

"I know. I also know that chronological age in and of itself isn't an indicator of sexual experience. There are seventeen-year-olds who've had more sexual partners than Alice has shoes. Edward, however, seems to have had no experience whatsoever. I wouldn't be at all surprised if the little incident you two just had at the Art Museum was the first time he'd ever touched a woman besides his mother. If you do fuck him, he'll be enthusiastic and very willing to please. You could train him to do everything exactly how you like it."

I rolled my eyes.

"What?" she asked.

"That hadn't occurred to me."

"You just said the kid barely touched your face and you wanted to rip his clothes off."

"That's the thing—I want so much more. He's amazing. I wouldn't dream of cheapening him with a zipless fuck."

"He's going to start college in the fall. You know what that means."

"I know," I said, sighing. "Drugs, booze and random sex."

"No matter what you decide, it's all just a matter of time. Do you have any idea where he's taking you Saturday?"

"Well, he's too young to get a hotel room."

"He wants you, but I suspect it goes well beyond the physical—for both of you." She drummed her index finger on the table, then took a sip of her beer. "What now?"

"I need to pursue this."

For the first time since meeting Edward, I was completely honest with myself.

"Okay," she said. "You would know better than anyone else. But don't tell Alice. I know you've been friends forever, and you might as well be family. You think she'll love you no matter what. Trust me on this. She won't. She will never get past his age and that he was a student at your school —even if you didn't know that when you met him. If there's one thing you don't need, it's her shit storm of guilt raining down on you while you try to figure this out. I think we should keep this between us, for now at least."

"Thank you."

"I hope we're not interrupting." Jasper's voice startled me. "You two looked pretty serious."

Alice looked at me questioningly as Jasper and Emmett joined us at the table.

"Of course, we're serious." Rose explained. "We were having a very serious discussion about the attributes of letter pressing over cheaper printing methods. I was explaining to Bella that there are lots of snobby bitches out there who feel the backs of invitations to check if they were properly engraved."

"Like my mother!" Alice said, sliding into the booth. "See, Jazz, people totally notice these things."

All tension was soon lost in cheap beer and bad singing.


	8. Carnival Evening

**chapter seven**

**carnival evening**

* * *

It was the fashion dilemma of the decade, and I couldn't even call Alice. What exactly does one wear on a date with a seventeen-year-old genius who has given no indication of what the evening will entail?

On Wednesday, Edward called to ask for my address and remind me to be ready at six.

"Sounds good," I said. "What exactly are we doing?"

"You know I'm not going to tell you that."

"How will I know if I will be appropriately attired?"

"You'll be perfect."

He was sweet if not exactly helpful.

Saturday afternoon I took a long shower. So long, in fact, the stained-glass window in my bathroom fogged up and my water ran cold.

I wrapped my hair up in a towel and puttered into my bedroom. After spending half an hour staring blankly into my closet, I called for reinforcement.

Twenty-five minutes later, Emmett arrived holding a case of beer.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Rose popped out from behind Emmett. "You said to come help you. I brought some options." She gestured toward a garment bag she was holding.

"I thought we were keeping this between us."

"Don't worry about Em," she said, ushering me upstairs.

"Bella, relax," Emmett called after us. "I'm just going to watch the game and wait for Rose. No big deal."

Once inside my bedroom, I slammed the door and turned to Rose.

"No big deal? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I'm sorry, but he insisted. He hasn't seen me in four days, so he got all pouty when I told him I was coming over here. I couldn't come up with a good enough reason for him to stay home."

I rolled my eyes, sighing.

"He's not going to care how old Edward is. He probably won't even notice. And once I put the fear of Rose-inflicted abstinence into him, you can be damned sure he won't tell Jasper or Alice."

I threw myself onto my bed. "I don't know why I'm so freaked out about this."

"Um, because it matters?" Rose sat beside me. "When was the last time you went out on a date?"

"January." I sighed. "I met this guy at Swanky Bubbles, and we–"

"I'm not talking about sex; I mean an evening out as a precursor to a possible relationship. A real_ date._ When was the last time you had one?"

"Five years ago."

"Oh. I take it things didn't go well?"

"Not really. I mean, the first date was fine. It's the year-long relationship it led to that turned was complete shit."

"Don't hold that against Edward. I mean, let's be real here. You're nervous because of a bad experience from five years ago. Five years ago, Edward's balls hadn't dropped yet."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's going to be fine. And even if it _is_ a complete disaster, don't you think it's about time you dropped the I-can-play-their-game-better-than-they-can bravado and let a guy give you more than his cock?" She glanced at her watch. "Fuck, look at the time. We only have half an hour, and your hair is still wet. Where do you keep your blow dryer?"

Just like that, Rose took control. The next time I looked in the mirror, my hair was arranged in in soft waves and my make-up understated but seductive.

"Now, would you help me decide what to wear?"

"This." She held up her garment bag and took out a black silk jersey wrap dress. It was sleeveless, with a very low back and an even deeper neckline.

"I can't wear that," I wailed. "It's sex on a hanger."

"Exactly."

"It will kill the boy."

"It won't kill him. It will just bring him a little closer to god."

"How do you even wear a bra with that?"

"You don't." She giggled. "Better hope you don't get cold, or you'll be driving with high beams."

She was evil and crude, but hilarious.

I stepped into the dress and looked at my reflection in the mirror. It was gorgeous—it hugged my body in all the right places, then fell to right above my knees.

"I don't even want to think about how short this must be on you."

Ignoring me, she selected a pair of black high-heeled strappy sandals from my closet. I had just stepped into them when we heard Emmett yelling from the next room.

"Woo hoo, yeah baby, bring it home."

"And here I thought Pat Burrell was the world's slowest outfielder."

I wondered how long Edward had been waiting.

"What were you worried about?" Rose whispered with a smile.

She opened the door and went out into the hallway. When she saw I was frozen in place, she pulled me in front of her and nudged me into the room with the boys.

Edward stood when he saw me. His hair was somewhat tamed, and slightly darker from product. He was wearing a white button down shirt with black dress pants. The top two buttons of his shirt were open. The third button was saying, "Bella, come play."

"I'm sorry we kept you waiting," Rose said. "You know how we girls get." She stepped around me and held out her hand. "I'm Rose, by the way. I see you've met my boyfriend, Emmett."

"It's very nice to meet you," Edward said, shaking her hand.

"Well, we should get going now. Bella, we'll see ourselves out."

"Great meeting you, Edward. Maybe we can catch a game sometime." He shook Edward's hand and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before following Rose downstairs.

We heard the front door close, but neither of us moved.

"Um, am I over-dressed? Rose was on wardrobe detail. I can go change–"

"Please don't change. Don't change a thing."

I couldn't help the smile that formed on my lips.

He gestured toward the stairs. "After you."

After I grabbed my clutch and a green pashmina, we stepped onto my porch. Holding my hand, Edward led me to the passenger side of a silver Volvo hard-top convertible. I settled myself into the leather seat, and he took his place behind the wheel.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"No," he said, laughing.

"Whose car is this? Wait, do you even have a driver's license?"

"It's my car. And yes, I am operating it legally."

"That's right; I keep forgetting. You had a birthday." I giggled as I spoke. "You're a big boy now."

He put his hand on my knee and smiled. "You have _no_idea."

Did he mean what I thought he meant? I stopped giggling.

He moved his hand to gearshift, and I silently wished he'd gotten an automatic.

Once in Center City, Edward stopped in front of the Bellevue. After giving his keys to the valet, he came to me and offered his assistance getting out of the car, continuing to hold my hand as we walked toward Broad Street.

"I thought we'd start off with dinner. Have you ever been to Bliss?"

"Actually, no. Sounds wonderful."

We went inside the restaurant and he told the hostess we were here for our reservation. The dining room was chic and modern, and we were seated immediately.

"May I see a wine list?" Edward asked our server.

I waited until the waiter was out of earshot before whispering, "You haven't had _that_ many birthdays."

He rolled his eyes at me.

"The lady would like a glass of your house chardonnay, and I'll have a club soda, please." The waiter left, and Edward turned to me. "That was what you were drinking at the Art Museum. I hope it's okay."

"It's fine, thank you." I changed the subject. "All this secrecy was over dinner?"

"Hardly. This is just the warm-up."

We settled into playful conversation. Dinner went very quickly, and before I knew it, we were headed south down Broad Street. We stopped when we reached the Academy of Music.

"You mentioned you liked Rachmaninoff. When I saw the program for this evening, I had to get you to come with me."

"The orchestra?"

He nodded.

"You're amazing."

"Is this another good surprise?"

"Oh, this goes beyond good."

He smiled and led me up the steps to the balcony. An usher directed us to a private box and drew the curtains, blocking out the aisle behind us. Edward moved the two velvet chairs closer together and then gestured for me to have a seat. After handing me a program, he took his place at my side. It was my favorite piano concerto. Soon the orchestra started playing, and I lost myself in the music.

Neither of us spoke as we drove home, but the silence wasn't awkward. This changed when Edward pulled into my driveway and shut off the car's engine. I knew what I wanted, and given his age and gender, I was fairly sure he wanted it, too.

"Would you like to come inside?" I asked, fumbling with my keys in my lap.

He answered immediately. "Yes."

As soon as we stepped inside my living room, I slipped off my shoes and placed my bag and wrap on the piano bench. Edward lingered behind in the doorway.

"Is everything okay?"

He nodded.

"Would you like to come upstairs?"

"Very much so."

"This isn't a big deal," I said, leading him up the steps. "You've been here before."

"I assure you, I haven't."

When I realized he wasn't talking about the second floor of my house, I knew I needed to break the tension.

"Let me give you a tour." I gestured to the first door at the top of the stairs. "The sitting room you've seen. That's where I spend most of my time. Next we have the bathroom. I'm told the tub predates the house. And here you probably thought recycling was a recent thing. Then there's the third floor, which is uninhabitable and quite frankly, scares me. I'm hoping if I ignore it, it will go away."

He laughed nervously. "That never actually works."

"It did with my second step-father."

Realizing he wouldn't enter my bedroom on his own, I stepped over the threshold and pulled him along. Because he was inexperienced, I decided to jump-start things. I took a few steps away from him, making sure he had a decent view of what I was doing. Very slowly, I untied the knot holding my dress together and let it fall to floor. He gasped when he realized I now stood before him in nothing but a thong. His gaze moved up and down my body. As his eyes lingered on my breasts and my hips, his blush intensified.

I walked toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. How had I not noticed he was shaking?

"Bella…" His voice trembled.

I cupped his face in my hands. "Shhh. Tell me what you want."

"Everything."

"It's all yours."

He put his arms around my waist, his hands hot against my skin. After taking a step back, he traced his fingers around my stomach to my belly button , then slid the backs of his hands up my chest. My breathing deepened with anticipation as his knuckles brushed against me. Blushing, he cupped my breasts, running his trembling thumbs back and forth across my nipples.

All patience gone, I pulled his shirt from the waistband of his pants and started unbuttoning it, working from the bottom up.

"Bella, stop."

Huh?

I took a step back. "Did you want to do this for me?"

"That's not it."

Wait. Had I misunderstand his intentions?

Holy mother of fuck. I just stripped down to my thong in front of a minor. I was naked. I was humiliated. And I needed to get him the hell out of my bedroom before I started to cry.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

So opened the floodgates.

"I'm fine," I lied, wiping under my eyes.

He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and shrugged out of it. Reaching around me, he pulled my arms through its sleeves and closed across my chest.

"We need to talk." He sat on my bed and pulled me beside him.

"We_ so_ do not need to talk. And for the record—because the sooner you learn this, the better off you'll be and I know they won't teach you this at Princeton—'We need to talk' is the worst phrase in the English language. No good ever comes from 'we need to talk.' 'We need to talk' is fail."

"Fine, then. We don't need to talk. I'll talk; You listen. You think I don't want you, which is insane. Believe me—I want you. I've wanted you for longer than you can even imagine. I've been obsessed with you since the first time I saw you. You're all I think about. I've obsessed about your breasts; I've wonder how you look between your thighs and what it would feel to be between them. I may not have known you, but I wanted you."

"God…" He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "How I've _wanted_ you. When I saw you at the Art Museum in February, I was elated. I could finally talk to you, though I was sure you'd tell me to piss off. I approached you thinking your rejection would cure my obsession—I never expected to feel connected with you, or for you to like me. So yes, Bella—I do want you. I want to do things to you I can't even bring myself to say out loud. But now that I _know _you, I can't just fuck you. Not like this. Not on a first date. You're worth so much more to than that to me. Whether you realize it or not, you've given me so much. And I want to give it all back to you. I want to give you everything. "

"Come here." He lay back onto my bad and pulled me against his chest.

His arms were both comfortable and comforting, and soon my tears stopped on their own.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about? I'm the one who just admitted I stalked you."

"Our night was perfect, and I ruined it."

"You did no such thing."

"I should have kept my dress on."

"Bella, how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"The things you haven't managed to learn in twenty-four years!" He shook his head in mock disgust. "All right, teacher, allow me to school you. It's impossible to ruin a guy's night by showing him your breasts. Breasts only make things better. I doubt there's anything in the world that can't be fixed by boobies in general, and yours are particularly stunning. In fact, going forward I may ask to see them when I get stressed."

I had to laugh; he said boobies.

"I'm not kidding, you know." He sat me up and turned me to face him. "Now that I think about it, I'm incredibly stressed. May I see your breasts?"

I nodded, still laughing. Ever so slowly, he opened his shirt and exposed my breasts. As he studied them, I got my first decent look at his chest. He hadn't been exaggerating when he said he spent a few hours each day lifting weights. As sad as it made me that he'd found it necessary to do so, I couldn't help but appreciate the results. His shoulders were broad, and his chest was defined. He wasn't ripped to the point it was ridiculous; he was perfect.

My eyes returned to his face, and his blush reminded me that despite his intellectual sophistication, this was new to him. I pressed my palm against his cheek, hoping to reassure him. Ever so slowly, he lowered his face to meet me.

Our first kiss was sweet, gentle, and way too brief. He brushed his mouth against my mouth, and his lips puckered around my lips. Then he pulled away, and I whimpered.

It was all the encouragement he needed. His hands went behind my head, pulling me into him for a second kiss. My lips parted, and his tongue explored the inside of my mouth. As much as I wanted to press myself against him, wrap my legs around him, feel him between my thighs, I stayed rooted in place. I knew this was something he should lead. After gasping into my mouth, he retreated, pausing to taste my lower lip before bowing toward my chest.

"So perfect," he muttered, punctuating his words with a kiss on each of my nipples. He held his shirt closed and pressed his lips against my forehead. "I should get going."

"I don't want you to go."

"I know."

I took his shirt off and handed it back to him. "You'll need this."

He looked at my breasts again as put his shirt on and buttoned it up. "You're not making this easy for me."

I mourned his the loss of his shirtlessness by pouting as I walked over my dresser and pulled an oversized t-shirt from my top drawer. "I'll walk you out."

Neither of us spoke as we moved downstairs into my living room. We reached my front door and stopped in front of it, staring at each other awkwardly. Edward ran his hand through his hair and I stood on one foot with my arms folded, nervously rubbing my ankle with my heel.

"I need to see you again," Edward said finally.

"Okay." My relief was palpable.

"Are you free tomorrow for dinner?"

"Yes."

"Great." He gave me a quick kiss on my lips before stepping out onto my porch. "I'll pick you up at three. My parents will be so excited to meet you."

I watched his car pull away and silently prayed that I'd misheard him.


	9. Mother Protecting Her Child

**chapter eight**

**mother protecting her child**

* * *

Edward appeared in my driveway at exactly three o'clock, wearing a faded black polo shirt and cargo pants. His hair was even more disheveled than usual. I leaned out of my front door to greet him.

"Drive here with the top down?"

Smiling, he took all three steps in one leap and swept me into his arms. His chest flattened my breasts as he pressed me against the door frame, and we became a tangle of tongue and lips.

Five minutes later, we came up for air.

"Is that your standard greeting?" I asked.

"Do you want it to be?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

I was too nervous to play around. "Edward, do I have to?"

"You never _have_ to do anything with me, but it did seem like you kind of enjoyed it."

"No, I mean dinner. You really expect me to meet your parents?"

"You're acting as if I'm sending you to your own execution."

"Aren't you?"

"It's not going to be bad. You've already met my father, and my mother wants to meet you."

"Yeah, probably just so she can accurately design the effigy she's planning to burn of the harlot who is going to deflower her baby boy."

His ensuing blush was adorable. "Presumptuous much?"

"Just confident."

"That's not what I'm talking about. What makes you so sure I haven't already been deflowered?"

This was getting interesting.

"Have you been?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, but I am curious."

As he whispered his answer, his face was so red I thought he'd spontaneously combust.

"No."

"Is that 'no' meaning you haven't been deflowered or 'no' you aren't a virgin?"

He looked away from me, cringing. "I hate that word."

"There's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

"Easy for you to say. You aren't the oldest living virgin on the East Coast."

"I don't think that's true. Sure, there are kids at school who've been doing it since ninth grade, but you only know that because they want you to know that. Just as many people your age are still waiting for their first kisses; they just don't advertise it. And if it makes you feel any better, I lost my virginity when I was nineteen."

"Why did you wait?"

The idea of discussing my past exploits with him made me wince.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"It's okay; I don't mind telling you this. I wanted my first time to be with someone I loved."

"And was it?" His voice was gentle.

"I thought so at the time."

"Do you regret it?"

"I don't believe in regret."

Understanding the significance of my philosophical rather than practical response, he pulled me into his arms.

"I still have a hard time believing this is real," he admitted.

"Oh, you'll have no problem believing this is real when you're outside in the dead of night helping your mother dispose of my body."

He sighed. "Will you give them a chance? Please?"

It was just as he predicted—I couldn't say no to him.

Ten minutes later, we arrived in front of a large, chocolate-brown Victorian home with a wrought iron fence and a wrap-around porch. Set behind it was a carriage house easily the size of both my twin and the one attached to it.

"Don't be nervous," Edward said, opening my car door. He took me by the hand and led me to the porch.

When I saw the Doctors Cullen had come out to meet us, I knew there was no going back.

"Mom, Dad." Edward smiled at them before turning to me. "This is Bella, my girlfriend."

Had I missed something?

His mother took my hand in hers and giving kissed on the cheek, at which point it occurred to me that psycho killers often use the guise physical affection to invade their victims' personal space. I looked behind her to see if she was hiding any sharp objects.

"Hello, Bella. It's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

The resemblance between Edward and his mother was striking. Red-haired and green-eyed, she was tall, slender, and ridiculously beautiful. She also didn't look a day over thirty-five. Either she had Edward in high school, or she'd had an insane amount of work done

"It's nice to meet you, too, Dr. Cullen," I said before turning to his father. "Hi, Carlisle."

"Good to see you again, Bella. Come on inside." Smiling warmly, Carlisle gestured toward the house.

Edward's mother put her arm through mine and led me inside. "I have some wine chilling. Edward said you like chardonnay."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen. That's very thoughtful of you."

"Please," she said. "Call me Esme. Besides, it's Dr. Masen."

I silently cursed Edward for not telling me his mother kept her maiden name.

Edward and Carlisle followed us into the house. The foyer's marble checkerboard floor surrounded a staircase that could only be described as grand. Esme led me into a surprisingly modern great room. One end held a state-of-the-art kitchen with stainless steel appliances and granite counter tops; the other contained a living area with leather couches and a fireplace. An enormous kitchen island served as a divider between the two sections.

After gesturing for me to sit at the island, Esme poured me a glass of wine. "Edward, why don't you help your father bring some more wine up from the cellar?"

I tried not to panic. Edward wouldn't leave me alone with his mother this soon.

"Sure, Mom." He kissed my cheek then followed his father.

Fuck.

"Edward mentioned you met at the Art Museum. Are you studying art history?"

"No, though I did take some art history classes in college as electives."

I relaxed. If we stuck with art, this conversation wouldn't be so bad.

"What's your major?"

Huh?

"I majored in English."

"That's wise. There's so much you can do with an English degree. What are your plans when you graduate?"

This was not good.

"I teach ninth grade."

"I'm sorry, did you mean you plan to teach ninth grade?"

Knowing I couldn't pull this off, I looked at the door, hoping Edward would reappear; he didn't.

"No, I _do_ teach ninth grade."

"How old are you?" She looked terrified of my answer.

"Twenty-four."

I watched the bump move down her neck as she swallowed.

"Edward said you were a few years older. I assumed you were in college."

"I decanted the Bordeaux," Carlisle said upon his and Edward's return.

"Edward, why don't you show Bella the dining room? We'll join you shortly." She gave Carlisle a look that could kill.

Edward led me down the hall to the dining room. I addressed him as soon as we were safely out of earshot.

"Your mother thought I was still in college."

"I'm not sure where she got that idea."

"Um, maybe because you didn't tell her otherwise? Edward, how could you do this to me? And I don't even want to think of what your poor mother is going through right now."

I couldn't elaborate; we were no longer alone.

Dinner was polite to the point it was painful. The conversation never lulled, but nothing of relevance was discussed. I was never so thankful for a meal to come to an end. After dessert, Edward's parents walked us out to the porch.

"Thank you for inviting me. Edward has spoken so highly of you both. It was nice to meet the people responsible for raising such a wonderful young man."

Esme nodded without emotion and went back inside, leaving us alone on the porch with Carlisle.

"She'll come around," he said more to Edward than to me.

"I thought you'd told her," Edward whispered to his father.

"Edward, now is not the time." For the first time all evening, Carlisle sounded parental. "Will we be seeing you later tonight?"

"I'm not sure," Edward replied, looking over at me.

"Just let us know if you plan to stay out all night so your mother doesn't worry needlessly. Bella, it was nice seeing you again."

I smiled and Carlisle went back inside the house.

Neither of us spoke again until Edward was walking me up to my door.

"You're hoping to spend the night?" It was more of a question than a statement.

"Yes."

"Okay. You should call your father. Just let yourself in when you're done."

I went straight to the kitchen and poured myself some wine. I was on my way upstairs when Edward came in the house, holding a duffel bag. The prior stress of the evening was forgotten.

"Presumptuous much?" I teased.

He laughed as we went upstairs and got ready for bed. Edward went into the bathroom first while I stood indecisively in my bedroom. Sleepwear presented an interesting challenge for me as I typically slept nude. Not wanting a repeat of last night, I picked a tank top and a pair of boy shorts out of my dresser. Edward emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of blue pajama pants. I wondered if I'd ever get used to the beauty of his bare chest. I was changing out of my clothes in the bathroom when I noticed an extra toothbrush on the sink. He was in this thing with me, with or without his mother's approval. He wanted me to know that.

I hurried back to the bedroom where he was lying in bed waiting for me.

"Bella, today was incredibly stressful. May I see your boobies?"

I giggled and took off my tank top.

"All better." He pulled me into bed with him.

I snuggled up to him, my breasts rubbing against his chest. When I kissed his mouth, it wasn't at all urgent or rushed. There was no reason to hurry; we had all the time in the world.


	10. Purification of the Virgin

chapter nine

purification of the virgin

* * *

I had completely forgotten what it was like to sleep with a man. That was, of course, until I woke up with a reminder poking me in the ass.

Edward.

I sighed. He was seventeen. He probably sprung a new one every five minutes.

He was asleep behind me with his arms wrapped around me, his hands gripping my tits like he'd fall off the bed if he let go.

"Edward?" I asked, nudging him with my elbow.

He wiggled closer to me, his cock now pressing between my butt checks. Good thing he was wearing pants. Otherwise, we might have ended up popping his cherry in our sleep.

"Edward?"

He grunted, moving his hips against my ass again. No good could come from this. I loosened his grip on my breasts enough to face him.

"Mmmm." He put his hands on my hips and pressed his erection between my thighs.

"Edward, wake up." I poked his chest with my index finger until his eyes opened.

He kissed my neck and thrust his hips forward sleepily. We were now aligned such that if not for our clothing, his penis_would _have entered me. I put my hands against him and gently pushed him away.

My voice was soft, but firm. "Baby, if we're going to do this, it needs to be without pajamas and with a condom."

Suddenly aware, he blushed profusely. "Oh, god. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Really."

My, he was gorgeous. Even first thing in the morning. Even with bed hair. My eyes followed the blush of his face down his chest to the small trail of hair that led into his pants.

I could peek, right? Movies started with previews; a little advanced notice never hurt anyone.

I pushed him back ever so slightly and feasted my eyes on his crotch.

Oh my god.

"Good morning," I said, nodding toward his erection.

He pulled the comforter up to his waist, hiding himself from my view then buried his head in the pillow.

"What's wrong?"

"Everything."

I sighed. "Could you be more specific?"

"I spent the night here because I wanted to sleep with you. You know, to hold you and feel close to you. I didn't want to assault you."

"You didn't assault me. You should never be embarrassed about how your body reacts to me. My body reacts the same way to you; you just can't always tell."

He appeared unconvinced. "I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want you to lie to me to make me feel better."

"I'm not lying." I wasn't; my panties had been constantly drenched since he'd shown me the peepholes at the Art Museum.

"Right."

I wanted him to believe me, but I didn't want to scare him. I shimmied the sheet down past my hips. I took my hand and put it inside my boy shorts, rubbing my index and middle fingers against my wet lips until they were coated with moisture. I took my fingers out of my underwear and held them up for Edward.

"See?" I said. "Constant state of arousal."

He gulped. The poor boy looked as if he was going to explode.

"Do you understand now? You have nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of."

He nodded.

"May I move the comforter?"

He shook his head quickly. "No."

"Don't tell me you're still embarrassed…"

"Yes. I mean, um, no. Well, the —er —the situation kind of resolved itself."

Huh?

Oh.

OH.

"Okay. Why don't you shower first?" I got out of bed. "I'll get breakfast started. As much as I'd like to spend all day cuddling in bed with you, I have quite a bit to get done today."

I threw on my tank top and leaned over him, kissing him on the lips. "Don't be embarrassed; I love that your body reacts to me."

As I turned to go downstairs, another thought occurred to me. "Before you come join me, would you mind stripping the bed? Monday is my laundry day," I lied.

His relief was palpable.

I went downstairs and washed my hands before I started the coffee. I loved my kitchen. The window above my sink faced east, and when the morning sunlight poured in, it always boosted my mood. As I scanned the contents of my fridge, I realized I had no idea what Edward liked. In the absence of any better alternative, I decided to make Belgian waffles and top them with strawberries. I got my waffle iron from under the sink and as it heated, I prepared the batter.

I was slicing the strawberries when Edward came into the kitchen. He stood behind me, placed his hands on my hips, and gave me a quick kiss on the neck.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, and my kitchen is only big enough for one cook at a time. Can you amuse yourself for a just a few minutes? You know where everything is. I'll call you when it's ready."

I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he left. Three minutes later I heard Chopin's _Nocturne in E flat_ very softly from the living room.

God, he was good. I didn't own sheet music, so he had to be playing from memory. When he was finished, he paused briefly before starting another piece, this time a Radiohead song. I tried to remember when I told him I loved Radiohead and realized I hadn't.

We had so much in common—everything, it seemed, except our demographic. We _could_ get over that, though. I needed to believe that we could.

After setting the table, I poured orange juice and coffee and went to get Edward.

"I hate to interrupt, but breakfast is ready."

He smiled and followed me back into the kitchen.

"Wow, you didn't have to go all out."

"I wanted to. Besides, I like to cook."

We sat down to eat, and he sto study our surroundings.

"Do you have something against things that match?"

"The dishes are supposed to be different colors. That's the point."

"Oh." He awkwardly changed the subject. "Do you have anything planned for today?"

"Tons, actually. I've kind of thrown all obligations, social and otherwise out the window since Saturday. Real-life beckons."

He looked hurt. "If I'm not part of your real-life, then what am I?"

"You know what I mean. Did you not see your mother's face last night? This is a woman who I am sure loves you more than she loves her own life. She was devastated."

"You heard my dad; she'll come around. I didn't think it was going to be a big deal. I told her you were a few years older and she seemed fine with it. She has only ever wanted me to be happy."

I pushed a strawberry around my plate. Edward nudged my face up to look at him before speaking again.

"I want to be with you. My mother's disapproval won't change that. You make me feel happy, normal. I know it sounds stupid, but it's a new thing for me. When she sees it for herself, her doubts will go away. Trust me on this; I know my mother."

"And your father?"

He smiled. "My father approves wholeheartedly. I've been confiding in him all along, you know."

"Oh."

His confession made me more than a little uncomfortable.

"He's my best friend. Of course I talk to him about you. Besides, I know you talk to your friends about me."

"Actually, I don't."

"Right. Maybe you, Rose and Emmett should get your stories straight."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't really think Emmett and I just talked about baseball do you?"

"I have _never_ discussed you with Emmett."

"No, but you've discussed me with Rose so you may as well have. Look, don't be pissed at him. He had only good intentions. He actually helped me out quite a bit."

"What did he tell you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't!"

"Fine. He took one look at me and could tell I was freaking out. I was so nervous; I don't think you will ever grasp the full extent of it. Emmett said you were just as flipped out at as I was. He also told me that you rarely dated, so you must be very interested in me if you agreed to go out with me. He gave me a bit of a pep talk and some advice. It actually really helped me."

"Oh."

"You seem surprised."

"I've never known Emmett for more than sports talk and penis jokes."

"He's dating an extremely successful litigator who happens to be ten years older than he is. Think Rose would be with him if he was that shallow?"

Whoa.

"Wait, did you say ten years older?"

"Rose is thirty-four. You didn't know that?"

"No."

"Damn it. I should have kept my mouth shut."

"It's okay. And don't worry— I'm not angry with Emmett." No wonder Rose was so supportive. She understood completely.

We finished breakfast and Edward helped me with the dishes. He went home to try to smooth things out with his mother and said he'd call me later.

I was unable to dwell on the morning's revelations. I had a busy day lined up with errands I saved for when school let out. I had a doctor's appointment and random other crap that I'd kept putting off. It wasn't until hours later, at my annual appointment with my ob/gyn as I sat on the table with the paper sheet over my legs when I finally had a moment to think.

Soon my doctor breezed into the room, looked at my chart, and asked if I had anything to discuss before she did my pap smear.

"Yes. I'd like an HIV test and to discuss my options for long-term birth control."

"Congratulations. So you met someone?" She seemed genuinely happy for me.

"Yes." I didn't recognize my voice as I spoke. "And I'd like to make sure he is completely protected."

"Okay then. I'd suggest we test for more than just HIV. We'll do a full work-up. As far as birth control is concerned, you have several options. Have you considered getting an IUD? You're a good candidate providing your relationship is monogamous."

"There won't be anyone else."

"And he feels the same way?"

And just like that—in a sterile examination room far removed from the romantic whirlwind Edward had created for me on Saturday night—I realized I was done. I wasn't in love in Edward. I wasn't sure I even knew what love was. I did know, however, that I no longer wanted to fuck around. I wanted to go with the feelings I had for him and see where they led. I was sure he felt the same way about me. He was risking his relationship with his mother to pursue me. He'd told me he was going to be with me, with or without her approval.

I was shocked by the confidence of my voice as I amended my previous statement.

"For either of us. There won't be anyone else for either of us."

" do you feel about an IUD? Let me explain how it works."

I finished with my doctor and walked down to hall to the lab where they drew my blood. I made an appointment to discuss my test results the following Monday as well as let her know my decision on the IUD.

As I drove back to my house, I tried not to panic about what the tests would reveal. I had never once in six years of sexual activity had sex without a condom. I should have nothing to worry about. At the same time, I wasn't sure I even knew how many partners I'd had. I thought back over the past few years. If I had to guess, it would be somewhere between thirty and forty.

Shit.

The odds of being clean were not in my favor.

I tried not to dwell on it. Physically, we were going to move slowly. Edward wasn't ready to be in a sexual relationship, even if little Edward was. I found myself smiling. There was nothing "little" about little Edward. The mere thought of Edward's cock made me wet between the legs. Oh, the places I wanted to put Edward's cock. My thoughts made_me _blush. I could only imagine what kind of reaction he'd have to them.

When I came home, I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop and a beer. I needed to research IUDs, but first I checked my email. There were twenty-seven new messages.

One was from my mother, letting me know she was still alive and that she was living with some guy in Texas. I sent a quick email back thanking her for letting me know. This fulfilled my annual maternal communication requirement.

Twenty-five were from Alice regarding wedding shit. She was also wondering where I've been. I couldn't tell her about Edward. I knew that. I also couldn't lie to her forever. I decided not to worry about that right now. Instead, I confirmed I'd go bridesmaid dress shopping with her tomorrow afternoon.

The most recent email was from Rose, inviting me to her house for a late dinner with her and Emmett. I typed a quick reply, bringing her up to speed on the past three days. I didn't mention Edward's one-on-one time with Emmett. I figured I'd address that another time.

About two minutes later she replied, telling me to feel free to bring Edward along if he was free. I picked up my iPhone and called Edward.

"I was just getting ready to call you." His voice was sexy as ever. "I have a lot to tell you. Are you home?"

I told him I was, and he said he was on his way. I waited for him with the giddy anticipation of a teenager.


	11. Spot Storm Brewing

**chapter ten**

**spot storm brewing**

* * *

Half an hour later, Edward arrived at my door with a breathtaking bouquet of multi-colored sweetheart roses."All different colors?" I looked up at him, smiling.

"They're supposed to be different colors. That's the point."

He was too perfect.

After I put them in a vase on the radiator cover in my sitting room, Edward joined me on the sofa where I used my mouth to express my gratitude non-verbally.

"Fill me in," I said after we came up for air. "How did things go at home?"

"Very well. My mom was surprised more than anything else and felt betrayed by my father and me. None of it had anything to do with you, though she did initially wonder why a woman your age would have any in me, but then I reminded her of all the times she told me any girl would be crazy not to love me. She couldn't argue with that."

"Are you telling me she's okay with this?"

"We have her tenuous approval. She'd like to get to know you a bit more, but she acknowledged the fact that when I leave for college in two months, I'll be able to do whatever I want anyway. She said she knows I'll behave honorably and make good choices, and then said a few other things that embarrassed the shit out of me, so I'm not going to repeat them." He blushed at the mere memory.  
"It wasn't bad. They want me to invite you to our shore house for the holiday weekend coming up. Do you have Fourth of July plans?"

I didn't, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to spend a long weekend with Edward's parents.

"That's very sweet, but I don't think I can handle that after dinner last night."

"Just think about it."

"I'm not making any promises."

When we arrived at Rose's, Edward and Emmett settled in the living room with the Phillies' game and a couple of beers. This morning's revelation about Rose had made it clear to me that Edward and Emmett had way more in common than a mutual love of baseball. I was happy they were getting along so well.

Meanwhile, I helped Rose in the kitchen, but waited until she was finished cutting up the salad before having a little fun with her.

"Tell me, how did you feel when the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded?"

She laughed. "Edward told you."

"Why didn't _you_ tell me? It would have been nice to know you'd been there."

"'It's very different from your situation. I met Emmett when he was twenty-three and in grad school. We didn't have to deal with parents or the whole under-age thing."

"They must know now. How did it go over?"

"It wasn't a big deal. Emmett's mother wanted to make sure I was Jewish and that eventually I'd give her grandchildren. When she realized she had nothing to worry about on either issue, she approved wholeheartedly. Emmett and I have the same values, the same goals. We're good for each other. There comes a point where age is just a number. The question is if you think you and Edward can get there intact. Now, would you mind setting the table while I finish up?"

As I worked in the dining room, I thought about what Rose said and realized how little I knew about Edward. I knew he was incredibly bright and extremely mature. I knew he wanted to go to medical school like his parents. I knew he read everything he could get his hands on and liked early twentieth century art.

But there was so much I didn't know. I didn't know why he chose Princeton, or if he wanted to stay in the area when he graduated. I knew nothing about his politics, if he ever wanted children, if he believed in god and what he thought happened to us when we died. The more I thought about it, I didn't know anything that really mattered.

I did know that I loved the way I felt when I was with him, and that he made me want to be better version of myself—one that would deserve him.

I put all of this out of my mind until we were driving home.

"Do you want children?"

He answered without hesitation. "Yes. Do you?"

"I think so."

Well, that was one question down.

Once at my house, he walked me to my door. "I really want to stay."

"I know, but I think it's really important that you go home tonight. You should spend some time with your parents. They're going to miss you like crazy in September."

They weren't the only ones.

"I'm going down the shore with my dad tomorrow to help with some things around the house. Can I see you Wednesday when I get back?"

"I'd like that."

"I'm…uh…going to kiss you now."

"I'd like that, too."

It was simple—tongueless and innocent—but it left me wanting so much more.

The following morning I lazed around the house until it was time to go see Alice. As I sat on the Schuylkill in traffic, I saw the Art Museum. I'd _so_ much rather be headed there. Who was I kidding? I'd rather be anywhere than shopping with Alice.

As traffic crawled forward, the view to my right included the Water Works. I smiled; Alice had exquisite taste. Her wedding would be stunning and elegant, just like Alice herself.

I felt awful keeping my relationship with Edward from her. She'd been telling me since we'd moved to Philadelphia how much she'd wanted me to find happiness with someone the way she had with Jasper. It was a nice sentiment. But how many people really end up spending forever with the first person they kiss?

When I arrived at the King of Prussia Mall, I used the valet parking. I unashamedly handed the keys of my beat up beetle to attendant and explained that he would have to double pump the clutch to start the car. I loved valet parking my beater. Nothing screams confidence like proudly claiming ownership of a thirty-year-old death trap while surrounded by a sea of Jaguars and BMWs.

I made my way up to Alice's office quickly, wanting nothing more than to get this over with as painlessly as possible. She met me at the door and told me she was still working with a client. I told her I'd meet her in the shoe department when she was finished.

My plans were to find a place to sit down with my iPhone and text Edward, until I saw a full head of thick auburn hair looking over a pair of Jimmy Choos. I'd know that hair anywhere. It was Esme Masen.

Maybe if I backed away slowly, she wouldn't notice me.

"Hello, Bella."

Or maybe not. I smiled and counted to ten as she came over to me. "Hi, Esme."

"Do you have a moment? There's a cafe downstairs. We could have a little chat."

I didn't want to, but I knew I had to. "Okay."

I followed Esme down the escalator to a small coffee shop out in the mall, where she insisted on buying me a drink. A few moments later, we were sitting at a small table sipping lattes. We looked like girlfriends, except I knew better.

"I'd like to apologize for my behavior on Sunday," she said.

"There's no need."

"Yes, there is. I made my own assumptions based on the limited information Edward and Carlisle provided me. The result was an incredibly uncomfortable situation for all of us, which would have been avoided had I just asked Edward a few additional questions. Even worse, I fear I may have left you with an inaccurate perception of me. I was a bit shocked, but I don't disapprove of you. I'm not sure I understand you, though I'd very much like to. Has Edward told you what kind of medicine I practice?"

"No."

"I'm a psychiatrist," she said. "So you see, whereas I want very much to believe that you simply enjoy my son's company as much as he enjoys yours, my experience tells me that is more than likely not the case. You teach where Edward attended high school. Even though I know nothing inappropriate happened while Edward a student, I'm sure you can imagine how it all looks."

"I didn't set out to enter into a relationship with a teenager. I met Edward at an Art Museum function at which alcohol was being served. He approached me with a glass of wine. I'm still not sure how he pulled that off."

"Carlisle is his wingman," she said wryly.

I had to laugh. "I should have known. I'm not with Edward because of his youth or the fact he was a student at my school, but in spite of it. Esme, it all just sort of happened. And Edward is…well, he's Edward. I've never known anyone like him of any age. He's amazing."

"I know." She nodded, the thought of her son causing a small, proud smile to form on her lips. "Has Edward invited you to spend the holiday with us?"

"Yes."

"Were you planning to accept?"

"No."

"I'd like you to reconsider. Look, I'm not going to pretend your relationship with my son is within my comfort level, but I am willing to work to get past that for Edward. Getting to know you a bit better would certainly help."

"Thank you."

"So you'll join us?" she asked.

"Yes." I would do it for Edward and hope that as a shrink, Esme had some klonopin stashed in the medicine cabinet.

Alice's voice scared the shit out of me. "Bella, this is so not the shoe department. Good thing I needed my late afternoon caffeine fix. Oh Esme, I'm sorry I'd thought you'd left. I was able to get that dress for you, I should have it early next week. I'll call you to schedule a fitting."

"Wonderful, thank you for all your help, Alice. Bella, it was truly nice to see you." Esme gave me what appeared to be a genuine smile before heading back into Neiman's.

"Oh my god, you know Esme Masen? How?"

"Through a friend." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"She's like, my favorite client. Her taste is impeccable and she's so much fun. Seriously, during her appointments I have the best time. I totally forget I'm working. I've always thought she'd be so cool to hang out with outside of work, but had no idea how to invite her without it seeming weird." Alice looked down at her cell phone. "We should go get started, I don't have a lot of time. I have a few dresses I'd like you to try on. I'd like you and Rose to compliment each other, but not match."

"Would you believe I just found out yesterday Rose was in her thirties?"

"It's not like she hides it." Alice laughed. "People just make assumptions based on her looks and what they know about Emmett. You have to admit, the whole Rose and Emmett thing is bizarre."

"What makes you say that?" This was going to be informative.

"Well, they're ten years apart, for one. And that's a little strange. But she's the older one, and that's even weirder. We all know men mature more slowly than women. It's got to feel like she's dating a teenager, especially when you consider how Emmett behaves half the time."

"Alice, not all men are less mature than women their age. We're all individuals. There are no absolutes."

"In theory, there should be no absolutes. At the same time, stereotypes exist for a reason. Believe whatever you want, but Rose is totally with a younger guy because she needs to be in charge. If it weren't Emmett, it would be someone else in his mid-twenties. She doesn't want an equal. She wants arm candy."

"That is so incredibly unfair—to both of them."

"Oh, give me a break. What is the first thing you think when you see an older man with a younger woman? Trophy wife. And I've heard you say it so don't even try to deny it. You can swap out the gender roles, but the motivation remains the same."

"Or they could just enjoy one another's company. Have you spent much time with the two of them together outside of bars and Eagles' games? They're good together, Alice. It works."

"It works now, but it won't work long term. I just hope for Rose's sake she realizes this sooner rather than later. She really wants children you know. And by the time Emmett is ready for that, she's going to need fertility drugs. I just hope she doesn't end up like that chick in California who had octuplets. Could you imagine the nanny bills? The thought makes me twitch. But enough about that. I give them another six months tops before her biological clock scares him off. I know that sounds awful, but you know I'm right. I really love Rose. I just want her to be happy." She gestured toward my latte. "Are you ready?"

Oh, was I ever. I threw the empty cup in the trash and followed Alice back into Neiman's, thankful for the mindless monotony of shopping.


	12. After the Bath

**chapter eleven**

**after the bath (woman drying herself)**

* * *

Wednesday morning, summer weather settled in the way I'd come to expect out here—with extreme heat and a level of humidity that defied logic. How was it possible to be so muggy all the time and yet not rain?

I finally bit the proverbial carbon-footprint bullet and fired up the window air-conditioning units that came with my house. I was actually grateful that I was not using the third floor. I shuddered to think at how much it would cost me to cool those two additional rooms.

I sat at my dining room table with my laptop and started reading about IUDs. There were aspects about it that scared me, but they didn't scare me nearly as much as the fear that I would forget to take my pill. I decided to go ahead and do it. I called my doctor's office and let the nurse know. She said they would be able to insert it at my appointment on Monday. One less thing to worry about when Edward and I have sex.

_If_ Edward and I have sex. Not wanting to push the issue, I hadn't made any advances toward him since our first date. It was less than a week ago, and yet it seemed like so much longer.

The sound of a lawn mower firing up outside reminded me of another thing I needed to do. My yard may have been very small, but it still required upkeep. I hadn't mowed the lawn since I moved in. I went to the dining room window to assess the situation and saw the grass was freshly cut. I went out to my porch and looked at the front lawn. It had also been mowed, and a strange SUV was parked in my driveway. The sound of the mower ceased, and Edward appeared before me, shirtless and drenched with sweat.

"Good morning," he said, pulling me into his arms.

"Did you just mow my lawn?"

"No, you had a visit from the landscaping fairy. Of course, I mowed your lawn."

"How did you know I didn't have a lawn mower?"

"Because if you had, you would have mowed it yourself by now."

"Thank you." I hugged him even more tightly, wrapping my arms around him.

"I know how you can thank me." He kissed my mouth.

By the time we pulled apart I was every bit as hot and wet as Edward was, though my condition had nothing to do with yard work or humidity.

"Is there any other way you'd like to be thanked?" I asked, sliding my hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

Fuck going slowly.

"You can let me inside out of this heat."

"What makes you think it will be any less hot in there?"

"Because your air conditioners are running. Oh. Um… you're being naughty, aren't you?"

"Do you want me to be?" I squeezed his ass through the back of his jeans.

He blushed so intensely he looked sun-burnt.

"Let's get you cleaned up." I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. I took him by the hand and led him inside.

"I haven't showered yet, but you need one a lot more than I do," I said as we reached the top of the steps. "Let me get you a towel and you can go first."

"Or we could shower together."

"Are you sure you're comfortable with that?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I weren't. But if it's not something you want to do, I'd be happy if you'd just let me see your boobies for a few minutes."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Mowing a two-hundred-square-foot lawn is a lot of work."

"I would show you my boobs even if you hadn't mowed my lawn."

"And I would have mowed your lawn, anyway."

Well, good thing we cleared that up. I pulled my tank top over my head and walked into the bathroom where I started the water running. When it was warm enough but not quite hot, I switched the stream from the tub to the shower. I stepped out of my shorts and underwear and climbed in, closing the curtain behind me so water wouldn't get all over the place. After a couple of minutes, Edward joined me.

We stood there in the shower with the water flowing over us, without touching or speaking for several moments. His eyes never left mine, his internal struggle written clearly on his face. When he finally did lower his gaze, it lingered at the junction of my thighs.

"Are you always so…bare?"

"Only in the summer."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why just in the summer?"

"It_ is_ called a bikini wax."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess." He swallowed. "So, what do you do the rest of the year?"

"I have a landing strip."

He swallowed again.

The entire time we'd been in the shower, I hadn't moved my eyes away from his face.

"May I look at you?"

"I think I'd rather you didn't."

I took a deep breath. I knew I had to be very careful about how I handled this. A few poorly chosen words would fuck him up for life, and there were already quite enough of us walking around wounded.

"If you're not ready for me to see you, that's one thing. And that's okay. Really. I can wait. But if you're just concerned that I won't like what I see, I would ask that you trust me. Do you trust me?"

He nodded.

"Are you ready for me to look at you?"

He whispered his answer. "Yes."

I slowly lowered my gaze from his eyes past his face to his chest. I followed the trail of the shower stream down his chest, past the narrow trail of reddish hair beneath his navel, settling finally on his dripping-wet erection.

He wasn't looking at me. He was looking somewhere over my shoulder.

"Is it…" He paused before continuing. "Is it okay?"

It killed me that he wouldn't make eye contact.

"Edward, look at me."

He slowly raised his eyes to meet my mine. They were filled with the fear of rejection.

"It's perfect. You're perfect."

He exhaled. I could see the tension fall from his shoulders.

"May I wash your hair?" I asked. "You'll have to get on your knees for me to be able to reach."

He got down on his knees so I could touch his head. I put both of my hands in his hair and tilted his head back so he could see my face.

"I don't want you to ever doubt yourself. Not with me. Not ever."

"Okay."

I squeezed a bit of my shampoo into the palm of my hand and started gently massaging his scalp. When I had worked up enough of a lather, he stood up to rinse while I began on my own hair. He stared at me as I worked the shampoo through to the ends of my hair, running my fingers through it before nudging him out of the way so that I could take his place under the water.

"That's looks complicated," he said.

"What, washing long hair? You get used to it."

"No, that." He angled his head down toward my crotch.

Laughing, I put my hands on his cheeks and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "You get used to that, too."

I shut off the water and stepped out of the tub. I wrapped myself in a towel and handed another one to him before heading off to my bedroom. I threw on a tank top and a pair of sweat shorts. Edward rejoined me a few minutes later, towel dried and wearing boxer shorts, just as adorable as ever. He got right into bed with me, and I cuddled against his chest.

"So Carlisle is your wingman. The mystery of how a sixteen year old bought a glass of wine at the Art Museum is finally solved."

Edward laughed. "Yes, I had help."

"Your father. Now there's a twist I didn't expect. How'd you get him to do it?"

"Actually, it was his idea."

"Whoa, your father encouraged you to hit on a teacher at your school?"

"Pretty much, yes."

"Wait, how does that work?"

"He knew I'd been pining after you–"

"Pining?" I asked.

"Are you going to keep interrupting me?"

"No. You pined?"

"Yes, I pined." He was getting exasperated.

"Wow," I said.

He rolled his eyes at me. He was cute when he was pissed.

"I'm sorry. So you were pining–"

"Yes, I had been pining away for you for months and my father knew this. He gave me this huge pep talk and said that most women will be polite to you if you approach them with respect and that I should just go for it. He said he was fairly sure by the color of the wine you were holding that it was chardonnay, so he went to the bar and got some for me to give to you as a way to break the ice."

"Was he expecting it to work?"

"No. He was actually really surprised that you spent the rest of the evening talking to me. Then he got kind of irritated because he had to wait for me outside for so long. He'd thought that because you taught at my school you'd let me down gently and that I'd learn that I had nothing to lose by putting myself out there like that. He never expected it would actually work. Of course, he's happy for me that it did."

"Your parents seem fun."

"They are. You'll see next weekend. I'm really glad you're coming. I hated the idea of going nearly five days without seeing you."

"I understand the feeling." Oh, did I ever.

"So Emmett invited me to the Phillies' game Saturday."

"That's should be a lot of fun. You'll probably be in his father's seats. They're right behind home plate."

"I wasn't sure if I should go," he explained.

"Why not?"

"I wanted to determine the origin of the invitation." He looked at me quizzically.

"You mean you want to know if I asked Emmett to include you? I didn't."

He was quiet.

"Does that surprise you?"

"No, but I was starting to second guess myself," he admitted.

"Will you go?"

"Yes. Do you mind if I borrow your laptop? I should send him an email and tell him we're on."

"Of course you may. It's on the dining room table. Why don't you bring it up here? I'm not ready to let you out of bed yet."

Five minutes later, Edward had returned with my computer and I was leaning against his chest again. It was my new favorite place. My eyes were closed, and even though it was early in the day I could have fallen asleep on him so easily.

"Bella?" he asked.

"Yes?" I spoke with my eyes still closed.

"What's this?"

I opened my eyes to the Firefox window detailing the pros and cons of IUDs.

"Something I'm getting. It's not a big deal. You can close the tab."

I truly hoped he wouldn't push the issue. I'd had the birth control discussion exactly one other time and that was with the guy I dated for a year while in college. He was twenty-one and he wasn't able to discuss it like an adult. I didn't relish the idea of having the same discussion with a seventeen year old.

"Birth control?" he asked.

Fuck.

"Yes." I hoped he would let it drop.

"Wait, you're going to have that stuck up there?" He was bright red as he pointed to the picture of the IUD on the screen.

"Yes."

"Will it hurt?"

"Probably a little."

"Are you're doing this for me?"

Several sarcastic comments came to mind, but they stayed there. Why was it so hard for me to tell him what I had no problem telling my doctor? To let him know that I wanted to be with him and him only?

"When the time comes I don't want you to worry."

He continued reading the page. "Are you sure? There's a lot that can go wrong with this. It seems kind of invasive. Some people have crazy side effects and it still doesn't protect against STDs," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Is that something you're worried about?"

"Should I be?" he asked.

I knew what he was asking but I was searching for an out.

"In general? Yes, it's something that any responsible, sexually active person should worry about."

"I wasn't asking generally. My parents are doctors, I've been getting the safe sex talk since before I could walk. Specifically, as it pertains to us, is this something I should be worried about?"

I should be able to talk about this with him. Why was it easier for me to have sex than it was to discuss its repercussions?

"If you're asking if I have any STDs, to my knowledge the answer is no. However, it's been over a year since I was tested for HIV so I had the lab work done again last week. I'll find out the results on Monday."

"So you're fine then."

"We can't assume that."

"How many sexual partners can one person have in a year?"

Shit.

If only he knew.

Hell.

If I only knew.

"It only takes one."

"True, but there's more to this than that. Bella, the number of people you've slept with changes nothing. You're older than me, I knew you were going to have more experience. That doesn't bother me. The fact that you won't tell me does bother me. It tells me you either don't trust me or you don't think I can handle your answer, and you were so convinced of this that you thought you needed to do all of this on your own."

"It's my body."

"I know. But I still want to come with you on Monday."

He had to be kidding.

"To my gynecologist? We've been dating less than a week! What's next? Tomorrow are you going to run to Target and buy me tampons?"

"I'd go right now if you needed them. Look, I don't need to be in the exam room with you. I'd actually prefer if I weren't. But if you're nervous about your test results, then you shouldn't be there alone. Is that okay?"

"Yes," I answered. Yet again, Edward Cullen managed to surprise me in a good way.

"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer."

I nodded.

"You really did all this for me?"

"Yes."

"You know I'll wear condoms, right? I fully expected that when the time comes I would. You don't have to do this for me."

"Condoms as birth control are not infallible."

I knew this. God, did I know this.

"I just wish you felt you could talk to me. There's nothing you could say that would change how I feel about you."

"I'm starting to believe that," I said.

He sent the email to Emmett and closed the laptop.

"I should get going. I told my dad I'd have the truck back before lunch."

He got up and threw his jeans back on. I walked him out to the door.

"Thank you, Edward…" I could thank him for specific things, but I knew I'd run out of time before I finished the ever-growing list. "…for being you."

He smiled down at me and kissed me gently on the lips before stepping out on to my porch.

"You're welcome. You're always welcome."

He got into the truck and left. He was seventeen. We'd been dating less than one week. It was insane. No amount of time could change that. But then again, traditional methods of measuring the passage of time had lost all meaning.

I knew I was falling in love with him.


	13. The Awakening of Trust

**chapter twelve**

**the awakening of trust**

* * *

I wasn't sure how long I had stood at my front door, staring off into space after Edward pulled away. Could it really be this easy? Certainly, the odds were stacked against us. But more and more I was starting to see them as nothing more than externals. When outside factors were removed and it was just us, it was easy to imagine we could have a future together.

The next few days passed quickly, and Edward had become a fixture at my house. He hadn't spent the night since our meeting-the-parents debacle, but most of our waking moments were spent in each other's company. Before I knew it, Monday rolled around and Edward and I were sitting in the waiting room of my doctor's office, slight anomalies in the sea of pregnant women and concerned fathers-to-be.

"It's going to be okay, you know." Edward held my hand in his and rubbed circles across my knuckles.

"You can't know that."

"I_ do_ know that." He leaned against me and kissed my cheek.

Soon I was on the exam table, naked from the waist down, awaiting my fate. Thankfully, this time my doctor didn't keep me waiting.

"Okay," she said glancing at my chart. "We're inserting an IUD today. You'll probably experience some cramping and spotting for a day or two. The procedure itself is actually very fast. Do have any questions for me before we begin?"

Um, yes, a pretty big question.

"Did my blood-work come back?"

She glanced down at my chart. "Yes. It all looks good."

Fifteen minutes later, Edward and I were headed back to my house where he insisted on carrying me up the stairs and putting me into bed.

"You're being ridiculous," I told him. "I can walk. I feel fine. Really."

"Like you'd tell me if you didn't."

He had a point. He got into bed next to me and pulled me into his arms. I curled myself into him and closed my eyes. I wasn't sure how long we lied there silently before he spoke.

"Bella?"

"Yes?" I answered.

"Why were you so scared earlier?"

"I was afraid it would hurt."

"We both know that wasn't it."

I was going to have to have this discussion with him sooner or later.

"Fine, then. Specifically, I was scared about getting my blood work back, of having an STD. Given my history, statistics were not on my side. There. I said it."

He swallowed before speaking. "How many men have you slept with?"

I couldn't answer his question, but that really wasn't the point. I didn't feel I should have to.

"Why does the number of partners I've had concern you so much? This is now the second time you've brought it up. You claim it doesn't matter, yet you won't let it go."

"'Partners,'" he said. "Wait, we are just talking about men here, right? I asked about men and you responded with 'partners'. That can only mean one thing. You've played for both teams."

Shit.

I gulped.

"What definition of 'played' are we working with?"

"There've been women, too?" His eyes widened with disbelief.

"You never answered my question. Either it matters to you or it doesn't. If it truly doesn't matter to you, you'd drop it."

"Wait, I just found out my girlfriend may be a switch hitter and I'm supposed to just drop it?"

"I don't swing the other way—not regularly. I experimented with women a few times just to see if it was something I'd be into, and it wasn't. I like cock. End of story."

"'Experimented' can mean a whole of lot of things."

"And I've probably done them all." I rolled my eyes at him.

"All of them? As in everything?"

"Yes, everything. But you claimed the past was irrelevant. So, either man up and stick with your previous statement, or admit that you're ashamed of me and get the fuck out of my house."

"I could never be ashamed of you. But I have to wonder if you are ashamed of yourself."

"I'm not." And I wasn't.

"I don't believe you."

"Why? Because you can't wrap your mind around sexual confidence?"

"That's not the problem. Why won't you just talk to me about it?"

"Fine. We'll talk. What do you want to know?" I asked, exasperated.

"How many partners?"

"Except that."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll skip that one for now. How many of your partners were women?"

"Two."

"And you…you went…" He couldn't even say it.

"You're guilt-tripping me for not wanting to discuss sex acts that you can't even say out loud. I'm not the only person in this bed with communication issues."

"So, you've gone down on two women." He finally just blurted it out.

"I've gone down on one woman. Two women have gone down on me."

"Simultaneously?"

"No, individually. Why does this bother you?"

"Because now I don't just have to worry about the possibility of losing you to another guy, I also have to worry about women."

"Actually, you don't have to worry about losing me at all, unless, of course, you continue to bring up things from the past that don't matter."

"How will I ever be enough for you?"

"Hey," I said, pulling his face toward mine. "You're everything for me. There's no reason to feel insecure. I knew having this conversation would give you a complex, and that's why I wanted to avoid it. I just want to keep you safe, to make sure nothing I've done in my past can come back and hurt you."

"That's really it?"

"Yes."

"Thank you—for getting tested, for getting the IUD, for being with me. "

I knew he meant it sincerely.

"You're welcome."

He gave me a gentle kiss.

"When you went down on that chick, how did that work? Was she going down on you at the same time? What did she look like?"

I should have seen this one coming a mile away. He's a guy; of course, he'd want details. Still, it was kind of surprising coming from him.

"You're kidding me."

"No. That's hot."

"Funny, three minutes ago you seemed more than a little freaked out about it."

"Oh, I was. I kind of still am. But now that's out there, a visual image wouldn't be the worst thing. It might help me, you know, when I'm alone."

"You don't need to jerk off to mental images of my past sexual encounters. Just tell me when you're ready. I'll get you plenty of your own to remember."

I held him tightly and kissed his mouth, running my tongue along his lower lip before placing small kisses down his neck and on his throat. With my head on his chest. I listened to his deeper-than-usual breathing. At some point I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew it was dark and I was alone. After a moment, I recognized the faint strains of _Moonlight Sonata_ coming from the living room and realized Edward hadn't left me after all.

I went downstairs and put my arms around him, resting my cheek against his back as he played.

"You stayed."

"As if there was ever any question." His hands stroked the piano keys, not missing a single a note. He completed the piece and pulled me onto the bench next to him. "Do you know anything about music theory?"

"Nothing whatsoever."

"There are seven unique tones in a scale. For the sake of simplicity, we'll start with C major. Middle C is this key here. Why don't you stroke it?"

I put my hand on his chest and slowly started moving it downward.

"I would love to stroke it."

"You know that wasn't what I meant."

The tell-tale blush appeared. I was starting to get very good at determining the extent of Edward's arousal solely on the shade of his cheeks.

"Are you telling me to stop?" My hand continued its slow descent.

"I don't want you to stop," he whispered. "But I don't think this is the time for that. I know you're still cramping from your appointment, and I don't want our first time to be in response to my insecurity. You shouldn't feel you have to bring me up to speed."

"Okay." I moved my hand off his torso and placed it on my lap. "It's very late. Do your parents know you're here?"

"Yes, but I should probably get going."

"As disappointing as I find that, it's just as well. Alice is supposed to stop by in the morning."

"It's such a small world that your best friend shops for my mom. Mom speaks very highly of Alice, you know. So, am I ever going to get to meet her?"

"Sure, you will. The timing just hasn't worked out yet," I lied.

"Well, you two have fun tomorrow," he said, getting up from the piano.

I walked him to the door.

"Oh, yes. Wedding insanity is so much fun." I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, if you're lucky you only get married once, right? Let her have her fun with it." He gave me a quick kiss. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Edward."

The following morning, as Alice and I sipped our lattes at Starbucks, we managed to talk for about fifteen minutes about other things before Alice brought up her wedding. It was a new record.

"I've been thinking about how to handle the whole escort situation. Emmett is the best man, and you're the maid of honor, so technically we should have you announced together at the reception. But that seems kind of weird with Rose also in the wedding party. And then there's Jake. I'm not sure where to put him."

"Jasper is having Jake as one of his groomsmen? That's so sweet of him to include your little brother. You could always send Jake out with the flower girls. How old is he now?"

"Seventeen," she said. "He'll actually be eighteen by the wedding. So he's way older than they are. It presents a dilemma though, because I can't send him out with you."

"Why not? It's a just a recessional and a dance."

"He's a kid."

"So? It will be cute. Besides, he's practically my brother, too, even if I haven't seen him since we moved out here."

"It will look weird."

I sighed. "Then have us announced separately and skip the whole bridal party dance thing."

"Or you could each dance with your dates."

I started to choke on my latte. Oh, the irony. I could bring Edward to Alice's wedding. Of course, he's the same age as her brother. It sure as hell wouldn't help with her issue with appearances.

"I wasn't planning on bringing a date," I said. "Alice, you have two months to figure all this out. Don't lose sleep over it right now."

"Good point. I'll figure something out."

The next couple of days passed and I couldn't get Alice out of my head. She'd given me no reason to think she would ever be accepting of my relationship with Edward. I took my own advice. I didn't lose sleep over it.

Insecurities aside, Edward was the perfect boyfriend. Extremely attentive and chivalrous, he anticipated my every need.

Well, my almost every need. We'd yet to really do anything besides kiss, and we hadn't done that very frequently. I didn't want to rush him, but at the same time I had no idea how to express my feelings for him in the absence of sex. I wanted more than anything to give myself to him physically. He hadn't indicated why he wanted to hold off, or even if he was waiting for anything in particular. He was just very careful to make sure things never progressed beyond a certain point. Specifically, we never touched below the waist.

Before I knew it, we were about to head off for Fourth of July weekend at his parents' beach house. I still had very mixed emotions about spending four straight days with Edward's parents. As much as I wanted the time with him, I knew there would be very awkward moments and that I would almost certainly feel as though I were auditioning for their approval. It was a new thing for me. I worried about how my own parents felt about me, but I desperately wanted Carlisle and Esme to like me. I knew the island their shore home was on was dry, so I bought some wine to bring down with me. It still seemed so impersonal. I hoped they'd let me cook for them at least one night while I was there. That was at least something I could do for them.

I put it all out of my mind and decided to focus on less stressful thoughts. Like Edward. That boy had my mind in the gutter. The idea of sex with him was rapidly becoming an obsession. I closed my eyes and ran my hands over my body, imagining he was here with me. I needed release, and I would take it any way I could get it. After only a few moments of stroking myself, I climaxed.

I was about to drift off to sleep when Edward called. He always called to say good night. I'd decided that second only to time I actually spent with him, his nightly phone call was my favorite part of each day.

"I was just thinking of you."

"Really now?" he asked. "What were you thinking?"

I decided to just tell him. Maybe he'd be less embarrassed over the phone.

"I was touching myself, and thinking how much I wished it had been your hands on me—in me—rather than my own."

Silence.

Shit. Now I'll never get laid.

"Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"No."

Taking that as encouragement, I decided I might as well go for broke.

"I started by touching my breasts. I squeezed them and pinched my nipples. Then I trailed my hands down lower, until I found my clit."

"What next?" His voice was barely audible.

"I flicked my index finger back and forth, while pumping two fingers from my other hand in and out of me, until I came. Would you like to come with me, Edward?"

"Yes."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"I want you to take your cock out of your pants. Is it hard for me?"

"Always."

"Did you take it out?"

"Yes."

"The things I want to do to your cock. I could hardly control myself in the shower that day. I wanted to fall to my knees and lick you, to pull your cock deep into my mouth. Would you have liked that? Would you like for me to suck you off?"

"Oh, yes."

"Are you touching yourself? I _want_ you to touch yourself. I want you to make yourself come."

His breathing got much heavier. He grunted a few times, and I think I may have heard an "Oh Bella" in there somewhere. Afterward, he didn't speak for several moments, but I knew he was still on the phone.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm so much better than okay."

Good to know.

"I liked hearing you, knowing that I was helping you bring yourself pleasure. I wish I could have seen you…to watch your face as you came."

"Soon, Bella."

I was being manipulative, and I knew it. But I also knew that in his post-orgasmic haze he'd probably tell me whatever I wanted to know.

"I don't want to pressure you, but why exactly are we waiting?"

"Remember when you said you had wanted your first time to be with someone with whom you were in love?"

"Yes." I instantly regretted asking. I had an overwhelming feeling I wasn't going to like what he said next.

"You can still have that, just not at the time in your life you thought you would."

Was that really what was holding him back? I was fixated on the idea that it was his lack of feelings for me, could it actually be the other way around?

"Have you ever been in love—really and truly in love?"

"No," I said, honestly.

"I think I can be that person for you. I don't know why…"

I didn't want him to think I had no feelings for him.

"Edward, I–"

"You don't have to say anything you're not ready to say. I know you aren't in love with me…yet. I also know you will be. And when you do love me, I want to give you so much more than the orgasm you just gave me. I want to give you all of me." He sighed. "You just aren't there yet."

"I know. But I'm getting closer."

And I was. Oh, but I was.

"It will be worth it; I promise you. Now you need to get some sleep. I'll see you in a few hours. Good night, love."

"Good night."

There was so much for me to think about. He'd only mentioned waiting until my feelings for him intensified, but said nothing about his feelings for me. It could only really mean one thing.

Edward was already in love with me.

I could have spent the rest of the night thinking about what this meant, but a few moments later, sleep claimed me anyway.


	14. Untitled

**chapter thirteen**

**untitled (woman lying on sand)**

* * *

Two things surprised me about Carlisle and Esme's shore house. The first was the house itself. Edward may have described it somewhat humbly, but upon arriving there could be no mistake. It was a beach front mansion. It had a terrace from which you could practically walk out into the ocean, an in-ground pool, a few hot tubs and no fewer than six bedrooms.

Six bedrooms.

Yes, six. I counted. The fact there were indeed six bedrooms, four of which were not in use brings me to surprise number two.

I was sharing a room with Edward.

"Do you really think this is appropriate?" I asked as he began to unpack.

"Why wouldn't it be? We've shared a bed before." He gave me my favorite lop-sided smile. It usually meant he was up to something.

"Yes, but not under your parents' roof. Your mother can't be okay with this."

"She raised me to be a perfect gentleman. She knows I would never dream of taking advantage of your proximity. However, she obviously doesn't know you very well."

That statement kind of annoyed me.

"Like I would do anything with your parents the next room over!"

"They're actually on a different floor."

"In the same house, whatever, you know what I mean."

"Now that's too bad," he said, pretending to sulk.

"Wait, were you planning to…?"

"You'll never know. So, what would you like to do first?"

"Swim."

"Would you prefer the ocean or the pool?"

"Honestly? The pool. I'm kind of weirded out by the ocean. I have a jelly fish phobia," I explained.

"Interesting. I love the ocean. Swimming through the waves is the greatest feeling out there."

"I bet I could introduce you to a better one."

He blushed, but still reached around me to squeeze my ass.

"I'm sure you could. Let's hit the pool, then."

At that moment, I really didn't care if I swam or not. I just wanted to get Edward's shirt off. I grabbed a white bikini out of my bag and ran into the adjoining bathroom to get changed. When I came out, Edward was standing in his swim trunks and a plain white t-shirt.

"This is so unfair," I muttered.

"What's unfair about it? I'll take my shirt off only if you take your top off. Gender equality, you know."

"No deal," I said, smiling sweetly. I grabbed a can of sunscreen from my bag and started spraying it on myself liberally.

"I think of all the technological advances of the last five years or so, I hate fine-mist sunscreen the most," he said, pouting.

"Do you need any?"

"No, I already applied."

I pulled my gauzy cover-up over my head and gestured to the door. "After you."

I followed Edward out back. His parents were sitting in lounge chairs with what appeared to be cocktails. I made a mental note that they were morning drinkers.

Esme smiled and waved me over as soon as she me.

"Bella, I hope you're settling in okay."

"Yes, Esme, thank you. Edward has been a very considerate host."

"What room did you put Bella in?" Carlisle asked.

Cue Edward's blush and Esme's giggle.

"Sweetie, are you sure you have enough sunscreen on?" Esme asked Edward. "You're looking a little sunburnt."

Of course, the blush intensified and the giggle evolved into a bona-fide laugh.

"Well, Bella's dying to get into the ocean, so we'll catch up with you later." Edward pulled me out onto the sand as he spoke.

"Were your parents teasing you about sharing a room with me?"

"Um, yeah. Sorry about that. I should have warned you that there are no taboo topics with them. My dad knows very well where you are sleeping this weekend. He was just trying to make me flustered."

"Trying to?"

"Okay, so it worked."

He lifted his shirt over his head and placed it between two slats of the wooden fence. I did the same with my dress and soon we were running into the water hand in hand.

It was frigid.

"Brrrr."

"Sorry," he said. "I know you're not into the whole ocean thing, but I promise you it's not jelly fish season. Plus, I kind of wanted to be alone with you."

"I like the sound of that."

He gestured to his shoulders. "Hop on."

He bent his knees and I wrapped my arms and my legs around him, pressing my chest against his back. Once I had a decent hold on him, he plowed into the surf. When we were well beyond the breakers, he placed me back on my feet, keeping his hands on my waist. The water came up to my chest and each wave lifted me gently off my feet before violently crashing into the sand in a flash of white foam about thirty feet in from where we stood.

Under normal circumstances, I would be panicked that the height of the waves brought the ocean level well over my head. I was in Edward's arms, though and I couldn't remember a time when I'd felt this secure.

Or this frisky.

"Can your parents see us?"

"From the pool? No. We're not out far enough."

"Good. I have something I need to do, and I don't want an audience."

I pressed myself against him tightly, rubbing my erect nipples against his chest. I felt him spring to life below the surface of the water. I took a small step back and snaked my arm around to the waistband of his swim trunks.

"I need to touch you."

I grasped his hardened length through his shorts, giving him a gentle tug. He put his head on my shoulder and groaned.

"Bella–"

"No, baby. Don't talk. Just let go."

I squeezed his cock twice more over the fabric, the last time rubbing my thumb over the tip. He twitched as he came still wearing his swim trunks, the salty ocean water masking all evidence of his release. When his breathing returned to normal, he slowly lifted his head off my shoulder. His eyes were filled with wonder.

I kissed his lips, feeling no sense of urgency. We stayed like that, in each other's arms as the waves beat around us, until our skin was pruned and the tide began to wash out.

We eventually made our way back to the house, splashing each other and playing like children. When we reached the hot, dry sand Edward carried me so I wouldn't burn my feet. He opened the gate to his house and pulled me into an outdoor shower stall where still wearing our swimsuits, we washed the sand off our bodies. Edward wrapped me in a fluffy beach towel and we headed inside to clean up and get changed.

Edward sent me into bathroom adjoining our bedroom, taking his own shower elsewhere. I wondered how many bathrooms there were as I washed all the remaining sand off of me. I combed out my hair and dressed in a casual sun dress before setting out to look for Edward.

I puttered out to the kitchen but found myself hovering back in the entryway. Carlisle and Esme were preparing dinner together. I watched them for a few minutes. They were completely at ease —laughing and touching, their connection with and devotion to one another evidenced by every tiny gesture. Although they did nothing more than touch hands, I felt as if I were intruding on a very private moment.

I wondered how many marriages were actually like this. Alice always claimed her parents were soul-mates, but I'd never spent enough time around them to be able to confirm or deny it. My mother had been married three times that I knew of, and my father was too scorned and bitter from her abandonment that he'd never so much as dated. In the context of the couple in front of me, Edward's romantic idealism not only made sense, but it didn't seem at all unrealistic.

Esme glanced up and gestured for me to join them. I immediately felt guilty for interrupting.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to intrude," I said quietly as I approached the kitchen island.

"You aren't," Esme said, smiling.

"Can I get you some wine or beer?" Carlisle asked.

"A lager would be great, if you have it."

Carlisle went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Yuengling. He took the cap off for me and reached to the cabinet.

"I don't need a glass, thank you."

He smiled warmly and handed me the beer.

I knew it would probably seem like a strange topic, but at the same time my curiosity got the better of me. Besides, it was far more palatable for me than being grilled on my intentions toward their son.

"I was just admiring your camaraderie. How did you two meet?"

Esme began to laugh. "In medical school, actually. It was our first time working on a human cadaver. They removed the sheet from the body, and Carlisle passed out cold."

I had to laugh.

"I went into medicine because I wanted to save lives, but it had all been very theoretical up to that point," Carlisle said in his own defense. "I'd never seen a dead body before. Blood, corpses, it was a lot to get used to. Anyway, when I woke up, Esme was leaning over me. She was beautiful and extremely pissed off at me."

"On his way to the floor he pushed me into the cadaver. I may not have shared his squeamishness, but falling head first into a corpse is never a pleasant experience," Esme elaborated.

"I decided to try to make it up to her the only way I knew how —I asked her out to dinner," Carlisle explained. "We've been together ever since."

Edward reemerged in loose cargo shorts and a faded t-shirt, his hair damp and curling slightly from his shower.

"Perfect timing," Esme said. "We're all set for you and your father to hit the grill."

I sipped my beer, and Edward shot me a curious look. Soon Edward was headed out back with his father, steaks in tow, and I was once again alone with Esme.

"Tell me about your parents."

"There's not a whole lot to tell. They were married very young. My mother left soon after I was born. She moved across the country and I don't see her all that much. My father never remarried."

Sensing my discomfort, she changed the subject. "Have you always wanted to teach?"

"Yes. I'm hoping to eventually attend grad school and teach at the university level. High school curriculum can be so limiting. But I do enjoy my freshmen. It's a hard age for a lot of them. But I also feel that if I do my job well, they leave my classroom with the tools they need to be effective communicators regardless of their future aspirations. That gives me great pride."

She smiled warmly. "Society tends to devalue our educators, and it's always so unsettling. By teaching writing, you are giving your students the foundation for success at whatever paths they may choose. You seem to have pursued a career in education for all the right reasons. It saddens me you didn't have Edward in class."

"I wouldn't be standing here with you now if I had." It came out a bit more sharply than I would have liked.

"I believe you."

"I only want to make him happy. Truly."

Her smile returned, and she reached to me and squeezed my hand.

"You already have."

Carlisle appeared and grabbed a tray from a cabinet.

"It's getting pretty windy out there," he explained. "If no one minds, we should probably eat inside."

"No arguments here," Esme said. "Bella and I will set the table."

"Thank you for coming. It means a great deal to my family to have you here with us. I know you're a bit on edge, and I can certainly appreciate that, but there's no reason to be. I get the sense from you that you feel as though you are here this weekend to earn my approval, which is absurd. You already have it."

And with her simple words of validation, I did something I haven't done since I was Edward's age.

I blushed.

It only got worse when she came over and hugged me.

"What was that for?" I asked, somewhat in shock as she pulled away.

"You seem less comfortable with me now than you were when I was grilling you. We'll have to work on that."

Well, I'll be damned. Edward's gift of frighteningly accurate perception was hereditary.

Soon Edward and Carlisle returned, and we sat around the table dining on steak, salad and asparagus. The conversation was light and playful, and soon I felt more like I was in the presence of my own family than an outsider seeking acceptance. When we finished eating, Edward and I washed the dishes before heading out to the beach for a walk. The ocean and the sky had become the same shade of midnight blue, the water only distinguishable by the white caps of the waves. We puttered along the wet sand in our bare feet, enjoying the beauty of the evening. When we were a good distance from the house, Edward reached over and took my hand.

"You're torturing me."

I could think of a few things I'd done today that he would have found titillating, but 'torture' was kind of a strong word.

"And how is that?"

"Last night you cheerfully presented me with the mental image of you taking me into your mouth, and then today you proceed to consume not one, but two beers directly from the bottle. I've never been so jealous of inanimate objects."

I smiled.

"That was not my intention you know. I really just wanted a lager."

He faced me and pulled me into his arms.

"I love you, Bella."

There they were—the three small words I thought I'd never hear from another human being free of ulterior motive. I pondered the enormity of Edward's declaration, knowing I couldn't say it back to him, but also knowing I needed to say _something_. I wussed out with humor.

"I'll have to drink beer more often."

"I'm serious. I love you. I love you with everything that I am."

"Edward, I-"

"Shh." He placed his fingers against my lips. "You don't have to say anything."

I didn't. Instead, I put my hand on his and sucked two of of his fingertips into my mouth. Before I could even register his gasp as one of pleasure, he was holding me against him, his tongue rubbing against mine.

I dropped onto my knees and started fumbling with the button of his cargo shorts.

"Bella." His breath was so heavy, my name was little more than a sigh.

"Edward, let me."

I had his zipper down and had just about slipped my hand inside his boxers when he dropped to his knees and closed his fly.

"Please. Let me love you."

He cupped my face in his hands. "I want nothing more."

I wasn't sure how long we knelt in the sand. I could be evasive and act like I hadn't spent the last few years running, or I could just put it out there.

"I'm scared. I've only had one other real relationship. I was in college, and we were together a little over a year. I came back to campus after the semester break, and he'd transferred. He sent me an email saying the school situation wasn't working for him and he thought he'd be happier closer to home. That he'd enjoyed knowing me, but didn't want to do the long distance thing. Three weeks later I realized I was pregnant. He didn't respond to my emails or phone calls. I called his parents house and they threatened me with a restraining order if I didn't stop harassing their son."

Edward gulped. "What did you do?"

"What do you think I did?"

"Oh."

Though he was right in front of me—touching me—he seemed miles away. I couldn't stop my tears. He pulled me into his arms and rocked me back and forth.

"Did you tell anyone?" he asked.

"My mother. She told me to get an abortion, that if she had it to do over again, she would have…" I trailed off as Edward's embrace tightened. After I few moments I continued. "And I told Alice. Alice was there for me."

He sat in the sand, cradling me in his lap as I sobbed. Finally, I calmed down enough to push myself from his lap. I knelt in the sand, staring somewhere over his shoulder.

"Bella, look at me."

I timidly raised my eyes to meet his.

"I love you," he said. "Always."

We slowly walked back to the house, our arms around each other's waists. Carlisle and Esme were nowhere to be seen, and we went uninterrupted to Edward's room.

"I can sleep somewhere else if you'd rather be alone."

Edward was always the gentleman.

"Is that what you want?"

"No," he said. "I want to hold you all night and try to convince you to trust me. I'm not like him, Bella. I'm not going anywhere."

I went into the bathroom to change into the tee shirt and shorts I'd packed to sleep in. When I came out of the bathroom, I saw Edward had changed into his pajamas.

All of a sudden, I knew without a doubt.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, too."

Fully clothed and completely exposed, I fell asleep in his arms.


	15. Anatomy Lesson

**chapter fourteen**

**anatomy lesson**

* * *

I woke the following morning exactly the way I'd fallen asleep—in Edward's arms. The moment I began to stir, his arms tightened around me as if he was afraid I would leave him as he slept. Having no intention of going anywhere, I pulled myself more tightly into his embrace, smiling at the realization that one part of Edward was already awake. His lips grazed my forehead, and I knew the rest of him would soon follow suit.

"Good morning," I whispered, stroking his cheek with my fingertips.

His eyes opened and filled with wonder, and a goofy smile spread across his lips.

"Good morning."

"Is something funny?"

"Not exactly funny, but I did just wake up in the arms of the woman I love. I win at life."

I chuckled.

"Seriously, Bella. I love you."

"It's so strange for me to hear you say that."

"Why?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. It's surreal, actually. I feel as though any moment I'll wake up from this dream and you'll have left me for some eating club skank."

"Eating club skank?" He raised an eyebrow. "Someone's read _This Side of Paradise_ too many times."

"I _am_ an English teacher."

"And you are even more of a fatalist than I thought you were. I tell you I love you and less than twelve hours later, you already have your mind made up that I'm going to chuck it all for a cheap lay."

"From what I've heard, the cheapness of the lay depends entirely upon which eating club."

"Bella, please. Don't ruin us before we even get started."

I sighed. He had a valid point. Still, September wasn't all that far away. We could spend the next eight or so weeks pretending the future wasn't uncertain, but that didn't alter our reality.

I conceded simply because I didn't want to think about it. "You're right."

I moved my lips onto his and slipped my tongue into his mouth. He rolled on top of me, pinning my arms above my head as he pressed his body into mine, deepening our kiss. Never had he taken control like this before; never had he acted with such abandon.

I was on fire until I remembered where we were. "Edward, not with your parents here."

"You're right; I'm sorry."

As if a switch was flicked, my passionate lover turned back into a respectful adolescent. I patted his bottom, and he rolled off me.

"I'm going to get cleaned up and see if your mother needs any help with breakfast."

I grabbed my bag and headed into the bathroom where I went through an abbreviated morning routine. There was no sense bothering with my hair at the beach–in the salt air, it did what it wanted. I tamed it to the best of my limited ability and threw on a cotton dress.

Minutes later, I was sitting around the breakfast table with Edward and his family. Storms off the coast were creating a strong undertow, and the Coast Guard was advising people to stay out of the water. It was just as well; it was supposed to thunder storm most of the day.

"Do you play chess?" Esme asked.

"Not well," I admitted.

"How about cards?" she tried again.

"Not so much."

"You know what that means." Carlisle turned to Esme. "It's going to be two on two. Choose your partner wisely."

Esme shot him a diabolical look before leaning across the table. "Fine, darling. I choose Bella." She pointed at her husband. "You're going down."

Edward laughed, but I was terrified.

"Should I be scared?" I asked.

"No, dear," Esme said, "but the boys should be quaking with fear."

"Cullen family tradition," Edward explained. "Thunderstorms at the beach equal battles of wit. My mother just claimed you for her team."

"Team for what?"

"Trivial Pursuit," Carlisle answered. "You might want to get comfortable. This could take a while."

Three hours later, we were still playing. I was amazed at things Edward and Carlisle didn't know, like what was missing from a navel orange. Had they never been to a grocery store? Even more surprising was the extent to which they enjoyed family time. They treated one another with the utmost respect, and it became obvious how Edward grew up to be so self-assured. His parents hung on his every word, regarding even his most trivial contributions as utterances of great value. When Esme and I answered the winning question, I was sad to see the game end. I felt as if I'd borrowed the family of my dreams from the library, and it was time to return them.

"Don't worry, Bella." Esme folded up the game board. "When we play again Labor Day, we'll still own them."

Her statement reassured me on more levels than I cared to acknowledge. She and Edward went off to the kitchen, leaving me alone with Carlisle.

"Thanks for playing along," he said. "We've been doing this here since Edward was very little."

"Was Edward born quoting Nietzsche? How exactly did that work?" I asked, grateful for any opportunity to gain more insight into Edward.

"Not quite at birth. When he was very young, I made a separate box of questions for him—simple things, like 'What color do you get when you mix red and blue?' and 'What is a prime number?' He was at least four before there were any questions on philosophy."

He laughed as if his last statement was a joke, but I got the feeling he wasn't kidding.

"By the way, thank you for the glass of wine at the Art Museum. I'd wondered for months how Edward did that."

"He was so surprised to see you there. I'm sure you know he'd had a bit of a thing for you for a while, but he didn't know you. Then he saw you at Art After 5, and he was floored by the idea you might actually have something in common. I encouraged him to go find out. I'm sure it seems strange to you—that I'd support him in his pursuit of you given the circumstances."

"It does, actually. I've struggled with the age difference myself. You seem to have no reservations."

"I didn't have reservations—well, not beyond the first five minutes. Bringing up Edward has been quite a ride. I know most parents would say that, but we've had unique challenges. In many ways, he's well beyond his years. Case and point—look where you met him. Have you encountered any other high-school students at the Art Museum on a Friday night? Since he was about ten, he was limited to adult interaction if he wanted to surround himself with people who shared his interests. It hadn't occurred to me that he would approach romantic pursuits similarly until you came into the picture, but I wasn't surprised. It seemed hypocritical of me to discourage his interest in you after I spent the last several years telling him that chronological age didn't matter. There are only two things that concern me as Edward's father—his safety and his happiness. There's not much I can do about the former these days, considering he's off to school in two months. His mother and I thought it was best that he started making his own decisions while still living under our roof so we could provide input as needed. His happiness, however, seems to require you. I would never stand in his way."

Edward returned, and Carlisle excused himself to his study. I curled up with a book on a sofa. I must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing I knew, it was dark. I found Edward in the kitchen with his laptop.

"How long did I sleep?" I asked.

"About five hours."

"I'm sorry. I'm an awful guest. I had no idea I was that tired. I hope I didn't interfere with anything your parents had planned."

"Don't worry about it. Besides, my dad has to go to work tomorrow. One of his colleagues had her baby a month early, and he's covering her surgeries. He and my mom decided to head home since it was raining. They were sorry they didn't get to say goodbye, but didn't want to wake you. They want you to come to dinner one night next week."

"Do you want to go home?"

"There's no need; they aren't expecting me until Tuesday. Besides, this is supposed to blow through overnight. The weather for the next two days is supposed to be perfect."

"We're alone?"

He closed his laptop and nodded.

"Oh." I wasn't sure why, but I was scared to death.

He stood and wrapped his arms around me.

"You know there's a soaking tub in the bathroom off our bedroom. Would you like to take a bath?"

"That sounds wonderful."

"I'll start the water for you."

Twenty minutes later, I settled myself into the steaming hot water, hoping to soak away my nerves. It wasn't a big deal that I was alone with Edward; I'd been alone with him more often than I could count. This was no different.

Who was I kidding? Everything was different.

I heard a faint knock at the door.

"Come in," I called.

Edward walked in wearing sweat pants with no shirt, a strange hybrid of sex and innocence.

"You don't mind if I sit in here with you, do you?" he asked. "I kind of miss the girls." He gestured to my bare breasts.

I smiled. He was still Edward. My falling in love with him hadn't changed that.

He settled on to the floor next to me, propping himself up on his elbows on the rim of the tub.

"You know I have no idea what I'm doing," he said nervously.

Somehow, I knew exactly what he was talking about. Given the nature of so many of our recent discussions, his performance anxiety had to be intense.

"That's okay."

"I won't last long enough inside you for you to climax, and I have no clue how to make that happen through other means."

"It's not just about having orgasms you know. Most women take years to be able to come during intercourse. Some never do."

He looked confused and waited a few moments before speaking again.

"Do you?" he asked.

"Not always." The fact was I usually didn't, at least, not with intercourse alone.

"I don't mean to sound antagonistic. Truly, I don't. But if it wasn't always about physical release, and you didn't love these people, why did you have sex with them?"

I couldn't answer him. I'd never delved that deeply into my own psyche to know the answer.

"I don't know."

He got up and retrieved a towel from the rack.

"Come here." He held it out for me, and I stepped out of the tub and into his outstretched arms. He gently dried me off then led me to the bedroom, still wrapped in the bath sheet.

He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me tentatively. "I love you."

I rested my head on his shoulder. "I love you, too."

I lifted my head to look into his eyes and he untucked the towel from under my arms, dropping it to the floor. I held his hand and placed it on my bare breast. He squeezed gently and nudged me down to the bed, pulling his pants off before lying down beside me. He'd had nothing underneath them.

In his arms, I could feel every inch of his bare skin against mine. He flicked his tongue over one of my nipples, watching in fascination as it changed texture. He continued to pinch it with his fingers as he took the other one into his mouth and suckled.

I wasn't typically one for talking during the act, but figured he needed all the guidance I could give him.

"That feels so good."

He licked a trail down my stomach, kissing my belly button, before continuing down to the junction of my thighs. He spread my legs and stopped. For a few moments he just sort of stared into me.

I lifted myself up onto my elbows and looked down at him.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

He nodded, blushing.

"You don't have to.."

"I want to. I just wish I'd watched more porn. Then maybe I'd have a better idea how…"

His index finger stroked my slit slowly, from top to bottom, seeming surprised at what he found there.

"You're so wet." A look of determination took over his face.

"You do that to me." I gasped as he stroked me again, this time his finger circling my clit. My breathing began to deepen.

He lowered his hand to my opening and stretched one finger inside me. My hips bucked involuntarily. Keeping his finger in me, he took his other hand and began to rub my clit back and forth with his thumb.

"Yes," I moaned. "Just like that."

He added a second finger and moved them in and out. I was getting very close.

"I'm going to come." I was practically yelling.

"Please," he whispered.

I barely recognized the sounds coming from me as my own as I thrashed around the bed in my orgasm. Edward moved his hands along with my hips, only pulling them away when my breathing began to return to normal.

He lay alongside me and propped himself up on his elbow.

"Are you always so loud?"

"No, but it was so easy to let go with you."

He smiled.

"Remember last night on the phone? You told me how you had just finished touching yourself and what you had done. I paid very close attention," he explained.

His blush was adorable.

"I love you, Edward."

He smiled widely at me.

I glanced down and saw his erection, which seemed to be clamoring for my attention. I wrapped my hand around it and squeezed. Edward's chest rose dramatically with his intake of air and he let out a very quiet moan. I nudged him onto his back and sat on top of him, straddling his chest.

We were like that for several minutes, playing with each other's bodies. I sucked and gently bit his earlobe while he held my breasts. My hair tickled his chest as I licked his nipples, occasionally grazing them with my teeth. He started to make noises and buck his hips.

His body was ready.

"Are you sure?" I looked at his face. "This isn't something we can undo."

"It's yours to take," he whispered.

Despite his affirmation, I stayed where I was. His hands rubbed my thighs as he spoke, sensing my reluctance.

"Take it."

I shimmied down his torso, aligning my pelvis with his. After raising myself up onto my knees, I positioned him at my entrance. I sat down slowly, bringing him inside me. He struggled to breathe. His hands moved around to cup my backside, and I raised my hips.

He came on my first downward stroke, clenching his eyes closed as soft moans escaped his lips. I kept him inside me and leaned forward, resting my head on his chest. He held me tightly against him. We stayed like that, still attached, until his silence began to unnerve me. I rolled onto my side.

"What are you thinking?"

He shook his head.

"Edward, talk to me."

"Is it always so…brief?"

I shook my head.

"Oh."

"Was it okay for you?"

"I'm a guy. Of course, it was okay for me. It was amazing for me. I just wish I lasted longer for you."

"You will last longer as you get used to how it feels to be inside me."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to how it feels to be inside you." A smile formed on his lips. "But I'm looking forward to working on that."

He stroked between my thighs. "How long until we can go again?"

"That depends on you. And let me tell you—that is one area in which your age places you at a distinct advantage."

I trailed my hand to his penis and traced around its tip; it hardened in seconds.

I smiled. "See?"

He nudged me onto my back and settled between my legs, rubbing me with the head of his cock and entering me with a groan. He pulled out until only his head remained inside me and then pushed forward again. I arched my back, pressing my breasts against his chest. As he moved, I lifted my hips to meet his. As with the first time, it was over very quickly. I knew only experience would change that.

I was planning on giving Edward lots of experience.


	16. As Passion Took Over

**chapter fifteen**

**as passion took over**

* * *

Edward seemed so young—even as he shared my bed, naked and ravished. Watching him sleep made me uncomfortable, though I didn't know why. After all, it was the same visage he presented while awake—dark lashes against pale skin, a chiseled jaw covered in reddish stubble, wild hair. It amazed me how in the restful absence of his intellect and emotional depth, his features were those of any other beautiful boy. Though viewing him as he expressed his thoughts was a much different experience, I couldn't ignore his age as he slept. The longer I stared at him the harder it became for me to suspend my disbelief in forever.

I delicately extricated myself from his arms, threw on one of his shirts and went to start breakfast. I was famished, and I knew he would be as well.

Once in the kitchen, I sliced vegetables for omelets. I was about to melt a small pat of butter in the pan, when I felt two hands settle on to my hips."

"I thought I'd find you in here," he murmured as his lips found my neck.

"We have to eat."

He laughed behind me.

"Man can live off sex alone," he joked.

I turned and put a quick kiss on his mouth. "Woman can't. Besides, I'm a little sore. Can we take a break?"

"I didn't hurt you did I?" There was an endearing hint of panic in his voice.

"No, nothing like that. It's just that's been a while since I've been with anyone, and my body needs to get used to you." I gave him a playful squeeze over his boxer shorts. "You've got a lot going on down there."

"How long?"

"You were there, too. If you recall, I didn't exactly bust out a tape measure."

He rolled his eyes. "I know exactly how long _that_ is. I was asking how long it'd been since you'd been intimate like that with someone."

I hugged him tightly. "I had never been intimate like that before. If you're asking about sex though, the answer is January."

The significance of my statement was not lost on him.

"Not since before we met?"

"No. Not since before we met."

"Have I told you how much I love you yet today?"

"I think you have, yes." He'd told me he loved me each and every time he entered me. "But I'll never get tired of hearing it."

"I love you."

"And I love you. Now kidding aside, you must be hungry. What would you like in your omelet?"

I prepared our breakfast while Edward did his best to distract me by putting his hands up my shirt. When the food was ready, we sat down to eat at the island.

"Why Princeton?" I asked.

"If Princeton accepts you, you go."

"Right, but you also got into Harvard and Yale. Harvard is ranked above Princeton, you know."

"They were tied one year, and don't let my father hear you say that."

"Why, are you a legacy?"

"Third generation. Are you trying to get rid of me? I'll only be forty-five minutes away, you know. It will work well for us."

There it was. He put the idea of remaining faithful to me while he was away at school out there like it was nothing.

"Is that what you want?"

"Well, yeah."

He seemed to have no doubts whatsoever. Of course, it's impossible to accurately ascertain what sort of sacrifices you are willing to make when you have no practical knowledge of what you are actually giving up.

"It is what you want too, right?" There was a faint trace of panic in his voice.

"I would never deny you anything."

A real college experience topped the list of things I didn't want to deny him, but this wasn't the time to discuss that.

After we ate, we cleaned up the kitchen and showered together. I reveled in our new-found physical closeness. He seemed so at ease, despite his complete inexperience with relationships. He believed in love entirely, that there was nothing more powerful or wonderful or permanent.

We dressed and headed out to the boardwalk where we played skee ball and ate funnel cake. We held hands and made out at the top of the Ferris wheel. By the time we were back at the house, I needed him inside me again. We tore our clothing off each other the second the door closed. Both naked, I pushed Edward onto the bed. He looked up at me in confusion.

"I thought you were sore?"

"I am; I just don't care."

He pulled me on top of him and rolled me onto my back.

He placed small kisses down my neck before taking a nipple into his mouth at the same moment his fingers found the heat between my thighs.

"I want to kiss you." He took the other nipple in his mouth, sucking it gently before adding, "Everywhere."

Before I could register the significance of his statement, he moved down my body and spread me open. He placed a small, quick kiss on my clit before following his lips with his tongue.

I gasped. "Yes!"

Still working with his mouth, he entered me with his fingers. My hips came off the bed.

The combined efforts of his hand and his tongue pushed me over the edge in almost no time. Before I knew it, I was gripping the sheets and moaning his name. I was still feeling myself contract from my orgasm when he positioned himself on his knees between my legs. He entered me and began to move, while gently rubbing me with his thumb. I came moments after he did.

After my orgasm, he collapsed next to me and pulled me into his arms.

"Was that okay?"

"It was so much better than okay."

He smiled. "I want it to be good for you. You can tell me, you know. If I do something wrong or if it's not something you like. I won't get upset about it. I know this is one area where I have almost nothing to offer you."

"You don't actually think that, do you?"

"Yes, but I try not to dwell on it."

I ran my hand through his hair. "Being here with you has been the most intense experience of my life. Truly."

He looked unconvinced.

"If you didn't always climax, would you still want to make love to me?"

His answer was immediate. "Absolutely."

"And why is that?"

"To be as close to you as possible, to touch you, to worship you."

That made me giggle. "You worship me?"

He blushed. "Was I not just on my knees?"

Now I laughed. He may be inexperienced, but he had a dirty little mind.

"I see what you mean, but I still want to give you physical pleasure." He paused. "Have you ever faked it?"

I knew exactly what he was asking, but hoped I was wrong. "Faked what?"

"An orgasm."

"Many times." I didn't lie to him, but I still hated that he wanted to know.

"Have you faked it with me?"

"I've never faked anything with you," I answered truthfully.

"Promise me you won't."

"I won't. I promise."

For several minutes, we held each other in silence.

"We still have some daylight left. Care to go for a swim?" he asked.

"I'd love to."

Soon we were splashing around in the waves. I decided the only thing better than Edward half-dressed and wet was Edward undressed and wet. Sadly, there were a few other homes just close enough to the Cullens' that I didn't feel comfortable with him on the beach naked in broad daylight.

We rinsed off in the outdoor shower, and this time we removed our swimsuits. Edward said he wanted to be completely sure we didn't get any sand in the house because it created additional work for the housekeeper. I believed him until he said that my breasts were sandier than the rest of me, and I wasn't capable of washing them myself.

We eventually made our way back to the terrace wrapped in beach towels. I noticed the hot tub was positioned in a way that assured privacy.

"Want to soak?" I asked.

"I'd love to. I'll be right in."

As soon as I stepped out of my towel and into the hot tub, it's warm water began working wonders on my muscles. I'd never had a twenty-four hour sexathon before. I'd never wanted to. Edward brought out all sorts of new emotions in me.

He reappeared with two glasses of wine and handed them to me.

"If you're trying to get me drunk, it's not necessary. I think I've made it clear that I'll put out while sober."

He laughed as he climbed into the hot tub and sat next to me.

"One of them is for me," he clarified, taking one of the glasses from me.

"Do Carlisle and Esme know you're drinking? I mean, you are a little young for that."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Okay, I'm sensing a double standard here regardless of your answer, but humor me anyway. When did you start drinking?"

"My first year of college."

"I start college in two months. Are you expecting me to have some enormous epiphany the day I move into the dorms that will impart upon me some wisdom I am currently lacking which will enable me to make better decisions while under the influence of substances?"

"Well, no, but you're under age, and you're here with me. It's not appropriate."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Everything we've done in the past twenty four hours, and you're telling me you think I'm too young to have a glass of wine?"

"It _is_ against the law."

"You're unbelievable."

"Look, the fact that your parents seem to be okay with me is huge. I really like them. I don't want to do anything that would cause them to re-evaluate their position on our relationship."

"That may be valid. But that wasn't all you said. I believe you said I was 'a little young for that.'"

"Legally–"

"I have a glass of wine with my parents at dinner almost nightly, but that isn't what this is about. If this were truly about the legality of the situation or the way you've perceived my parents' approval of us as capricious, you would have voiced your concern without patronizing me. This has nothing whatsoever to do with underage drinking. You don't see me as your equal."

I did in some areas, and I didn't in others, but none of it was the way he was thinking it was. We most certainly were not equals; he was way too good for me.

"I'm trying to view us as equals." It was an honest answer, just not in the way he thought it was.

"Can you try a bit harder? Because this will never work between us if you continue to act like you're my babysitter."

Ouch.

He took my wine glass out of my hand and placed both of them down on the rim of the tub before pulling me into his arms.

"I want us to work more than anything."

"Me, too," I muttered against his chest.

"When do I get to meet Alice? And I know you're not close with your father, but I'd also like to meet him."

"My father is on the other side of the country. Even I haven't been to see him in two years. That's just not practical."

"Alice is on the other side of the Delaware River. I'm beginning to think I'll never meet her."

"You will. Though in all honestly, if your intelligence truly matched its hype, you'd want to put off meeting Alice until after the wedding. She's in full blast bridezilla mode at the moment. You may come away with a skewed perception of who she is."

I wasn't lying; I was telling a half-truth. I neglected to add that I doubted that Alice would approve of us even in her non pod-person state.

"I'll keep that in mind. However, as your boyfriend I should meet your best friend."

"I'll see what I can figure out." I knew I'd have to tell her eventually.

He gave me a soft kiss.

"Thank you."

Later on when we were getting ready for bed, I heard my iPhone ringing in my overnight bag. I dug it out too late to answer it. I had fourteen missed calls. Twelve from Alice and two from Rose.

Fuck.

I'd never told Alice I was going away for the weekend.

Alice left five voice messages and Rose had left one. I played Rose's first.

"Hey, Bella. It's Rose. Listen, you never told Alice you were going down the shore this weekend. I didn't want you to come home to the Spanish Inquisition, so I told her you were at some teachers' retreat and that you did tell her about it at McGillan's one night, she just probably couldn't hear you over Jazz's bad impersonation of Meatloaf. I hope that's okay. Hope you two are having a nice time. And if you get lucky, make him wear a condom. They help with staying power. Bye!"

Condoms, huh? Now why hadn't I thought of that?


	17. Little Laundry Girl

**chapter sixteen**

**little laundry girl**

* * *

Our final twenty-four hours at the shore house were perfect beyond words. We went out on the beach to watch the fireworks before coming inside to create some of our own. Still, time was our perpetual enemy; before long we were packing up to drive home and I began stripping our bed.

"You don't have to do that. We have someone that comes in once a week, even when we aren't here."

"The sheets wreak of sex. I don't want your parents' cleaning lady filling them in on how we spent the rest of our weekend," I explained.

"They're going to find out anyway. I'm fairly sure they didn't expect us to sit around and play chess. Besides, it's not like I wasn't planning to tell my father."

Whoa.

"What?"

"I talk to my father about everything. I'm supposed to leave this out?"

"Um, yes, you are supposed to leave this out."

"That's more than a little unfair. I know you're going to tell Alice and Rose."

I was so not going to tell Alice, but I knew letting Edward in on that tidbit would not help me win this argument.

"I don't typically discuss my sex life with uninvolved parties."

Granted, that had changed recently when I met Rose, but still.

"I'm not going to sit my parents down and ask them for pointers, but when my father asks if we had sex this weekend—and he will ask—I'll answer truthfully. I've never lied to him, and I'm not about to start now."

I didn't want to think about this right now. I _couldn't _think about this right now. I bundled the sheets into my arms and went back to the original topic at hand.

"Okay, so we'll just wash these, and I'll take care of the kitchen and our bathroom." I handed Edward the sheets. "Why don't you put these in the washer?"

He stared at me with a blank look on his face.

"You do have a washer and dryer here, right?"

"We do. It's down the hall."

"Okay, throw these in."

He continued to just stand there.

"What?"

"I don't know how to do that."

"Huh?"

"Laundry," he explained. "I've never done it."

Esme so didn't seem like the type of woman who would still be washing her seventeen-year-old son's clothing.

"Your mother still does it for you?"

Edward laughed. "No. Come to think of it, I doubt my mother knows how to laundry, either. Our housekeeper does it."

I'd never really thought about how much money Edward's family had, and I'm not sure why I was surprised. The signs were there; I'd just chosen not to read them. I knew their house in Haddonfield indicated some level of wealth, as did their vehicles and clothing. Alice shopped for Esme. Add the beach house to the mix, and I suddenly had a decent enough idea of the privilege with which Edward was raised. Still, it was no excuse for being completely unable to fend for oneself.

"What would you do if you needed to wash something and it was her day off?"

"Go to Nordstrom and buy a new one."

It was good to be rich.

"Wait, that's not exactly true. My father knows how to do laundry, I think. He's just not very good at it."

"Well, don't you think you should learn how to do this before you go off to school? Do the residential colleges at Princeton have servants' quarters, or were you planning on sending your dirty clothes home each weekend?"

He didn't need to answer; his blush said it all.

I sighed. "Show me where the washer and dryer are, and I'll show you how to use them."

He paid very close attention as I explained which articles were washed and dried on which settings. When it was time to dry the sheets, he moved them from the washer to the dryer and selected the appropriate setting. He seemed amazed when half an hour later, he took them out and they were the same size they'd been when he put them in.

We drove home with the top down and Edward's iPod playing, our hands linked on my lap, breaking contact only when Edward needed to switch gears. I was dreading going home. Even though the past four days had shown me just how well Edward and I could work as a couple, it still wasn't real life. We were completely alone, away from anyone who knew us and would judge us. It wouldn't be so easy when were back in our usual surroundings.

I felt an overwhelming sense of dread as Edward pulled into my driveway. I knew he would be going home to his parents' house, and I hated the thought of sleeping without him. He came inside with me, carrying my bag up to my room while I went around the house and turned on the AC units.

He lingered in my living room after coming back downstairs.

"I wish I could stay," he said. "I don't want to sleep without you."

"I know."

He leaned down and kissed me, holding me tightly against him.

"Once more for the road?"

He didn't answer; he just picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. Moments later, our clothing was gone and he was lying his back with me on top of him. I reached into my night stand for a condom.

He looked confused. "Worried all of a sudden?"

"No. I just want to try something. Do you mind?"

He shook his head.

I grasped his length in my hand and pumped up and down a few times, before unwrapping the condom and rolling it on him. I settled myself onto him, taking him fully inside me. I bounced up and down a few times, watching Edward. He didn't look like he was close. I reached down to where we were joined and began to touch myself as I rode him.

Edward's eyes widened and he began to meet me halfway with his hips.

"Make yourself come," he whispered, panting.

I brought myself to orgasm with Edward still inside me. He rolled me onto my back and found his own release moments later.

"Was it okay?" I asked when he appeared capable of thought. "With the condom, I mean."

"Well, I couldn't feel as much, though I think in this context it may have helped. Watching you touch yourself was most incredible thing I've ever seen. And then to be inside you when you came. That felt amazing," he said, blushing.

I placed a gentle kiss on his mouth. "I want to keep you here with me, but I know you should get home." It pained me to say it.

"I know." He sighed and got out bed.

As he got dressed, I threw on a t-shirt from my top drawer.

"'We survived prohibition,'" he read. "Did they?"

I looked down to see which shirt I was wearing. "Yes, they did. McGillin's is the oldest pub in town. We hang out there a lot. On Wednesdays and Fridays they have karaoke. Jazz sings a lot, but he's actually quite good. The rest of our group, not so much. Once Emmett got trashed and sang Air Supply. Rose is always threatening to put the video on YouTube."

Edward laughed. "I don't know what Air Supply is, but I'm not sure I want to."

"Very bad 80s music. He'd found it on her iPod and wouldn't let her live it down."

"Too funny. I'd love to go with you sometime."

That was more that a little hard logistically; not only was there the Alice issue, they carded at the door most nights. After the alcohol debacle from last night, I knew I had to tread very carefully.

"Maybe we can figure something out," I lied.

He smiled, and I walked him to the door.

"Want to come to dinner at my house on Friday? My parents would love to see you, and they both have Friday afternoons off."

"I'd love to."

"Great. I'll call you later to say good night." He placed a quick peck on my lips and was gone.

I closed the door behind him and slowly turned around to face my living room. My home suddenly felt so empty. I was going to face reality, but not without a lager. I grabbed a bottle of lager from the fridge, retrieved my iPhone from my bag and finally listened to the voice mail from Alice before calling her back.

Rose had truly saved my ass. Alice never once questioned where I'd been the past four days. She'd simply said that she'd missed me and couldn't believe she'd forgotten that I would be away all weekend. I did feel somewhat bad about waiting so long to get back in touch with her, but I knew that if I called her from the beach house, Edward would have insisted on talking to her, and I wasn't ready to deal with the drama that would likely ensue.

I was not intentionally hiding Edward from Alice. I knew that if he was going to be a permanent part of my life, I was going to have to tell her about him eventually. But as much as I wanted to, I couldn't cast aside my serious reservations that my relationship with Edward would extend beyond this summer.

Edward loved me. I didn't doubt that. I also was painfully aware that I was the first female to show him any attention. I had to question how he'd feel about me when he was finally presented with other options. Most people who were outcasts in high school find their social niches in college. Surrounded by others who shared his intellect, he would flourish and feel much less socially awkward with his peers. College girls will flock to him.

I would risk my friendship with Alice to be with Edward, but only if I was fairly sure I wasn't potentially alienating my best friend only for Edward to dump me a month later for some nineteen-year-old college skank. At the moment, it was all too much to process. I was just going to have to find a way to balance it all until I could decide what I was going to do.

For now, though, I missed my best friend. Soon I was curled up on my sofa for a lengthy phone conversation with a surprisingly non-wedding obsessed Alice. I enjoyed every minute of it.

Well, almost every minute of it.

"What are you up to the rest of the week?" she asked. "I'm free Friday. We should all go to McGillin's. It's been a while."

I decided to keep this as close to the truth as possible so that I would be able to keep my story straight if it were to come up again later.

"Sorry, that doesn't work for me. I have dinner plans."

"Those kind of plans?" She sounded excited for me.

"No, not like that. Esme Masen and her husband Carlisle invited me over for dinner."

"Is it awful that I'm kind of jealous? I heart her. How do you know her again? You know, her office is right by where you live." She paused. "Oh my god, is she your shrink?"

"No."

"You can totally tell me if you've been seeing her that way. I won't judge. I actually think it would be really good for you. You've been through a lot, whether you like to acknowledge it or not. The whole serial one night stand thing you've been doing for the past few years just proves how much James' disappearing act still affects you. Please don't take this the wrong way; I don't mean to belittle how infinitely shitty that whole situation was. Had it been me, I don't think I could have gotten through it. I don't begrudge you your survival mechanisms, but maybe if you talked to someone about it all, you'd be able to focus on more than just surviving."

"For the last time, Esme is not my shrink."

She sighed. "Okay, but think about what I said, will you? I want you to be happy, and I'm afraid you won't ever be unless you confront your insecurities. There may be some women who prefer to be alone, but I don't think you're one of them. Talking to someone who can help wouldn't be the worst thing. Speaking of people who need professional help, oh my god, you won't believe the drama. Wait til you hear this."

She went off on an hour long tangent about Jasper's sister Charlotte, granting me reprieve from her amateur psychoanalysis. Though Alice had a point when she said that talking about my issues would most likely be good for me, I didn't need to a pay a professional for that; I had Edward.

I sighed contentedly.

I had Edward, and he'd made it clear he wasn't going anywhere.


	18. Evening Wind

**chapter seventeen**

**evening wind**

* * *

I lifted my head from my pillow in complete disorientation. It sounded like a tap or a scrape. Maybe I was dreaming. I pulled the comforter up over my head and rolled over; I hated getting up in the morning.

But there it was again. Scrape. It was definitely real, but I couldn't imagine what would be tapping against my second-story bedroom window. I rolled out of bed and threw on a t-shirt then headed to the window to investigate. When I looked down and saw Edward, I pushed the window open.

"Have I died and gone to a bad production of Romeo and Juliet because hell was full?"

"Huh?" He looked confused.

"Why are you throwing shit at my window?"

"You weren't answering the door or your phone," he explained.

I went downstairs and opened the front door.

He smiled, gorgeous as ever. "Good morning."

No one should be that cheerful before noon.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, still groggy.

"Last night you said how you hated waking up without me next to you; I thought I'd let myself in and surprise you. I didn't realize until I got here that I didn't have a key."

It was kind of sweet. Annoying, but sweet.

"It was a nice thought, even if it was a bit ill-conceived." I leaned up on my toes and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth.

"You wouldn't have minded?"

"No, I wouldn't have minded. I would have loved it, actually, had you been successful." I opened the door to my coat closet and felt around the shelf. I found where I'd taped down the extra front door keys, pulled one off and handed it to Edward. "This will make things easier next time."

He looked at me quizzically. "Is this what I think this is?"

"Yes. Bottom lock on the front door. It's the only one I really use. It makes sense for you have one anyway. No one else has a key to my house and if I ever locked myself out, I'd probably have to break a window or call a locksmith, both of which would cost me money." I rambled a bit, trying to downplay the significance of the tiny piece of metal I'd just pressed into his palm.

Of course, Edward would not let me get away with it. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly.

"Thank you. I know what a big deal this is."

"It's really not," I insisted.

"No, it really is."

I wasn't about to argue with him.

We spent the rest of the day puttering around my house. He spent an hour at the piano with me, and though I was a far way from being able to playing anything but "Chopsticks", I was starting to grasp the fundamentals of reading music. Eventually, we made our way to Edward's house for dinner. I was beginning to love his family as much as I loved him. Carlisle and Esme were quite possibly the most accepting people I'd ever met. They had every reason in the world to question my intentions with Edward–age, experience, socio-economic status–and yet they never did. The simple fact that Edward wanted to be with me was good enough for them.

The summer was passing quickly, and soon Edward and I settled into a routine. He rarely spent the night, but I usually woke up next to him. He continued to give me piano lessons, and I taught him to cook. He was a very quick study, and delighted Esme by making lasagna for her on her birthday. I wondered if there was anything he couldn't do well.

July became the dead heat of August, and Edward was pressing to meet Alice. Thankfully, Alice had spent a week and a half visiting her parents and brother in Ohio, buying me some time. She'd been back three days when I knew I couldn't put off telling her about Edward any longer. I had my phone in hand, ready to call her to ask her to meet me for coffee later in the week when Rose's number appeared on my caller ID. She never called me during work hours.

"Everything okay?"

"For the most part," she said. "Look, I need a huge favor and it's not something I can ask Leah to do."

"I didn't know there were things you couldn't ask Leah to do," I joked.

She laughed mechanically, and I knew something was wrong. "Can you pick up a couple of pregnancy tests and bring them by my office? I'm sure I'm not pregnant, but…"

Her fear was palpable and something I knew all too well.

"You don't have to say another word. I'll be right over."

"Thank you, Bella."

An hour later we were in a bathroom stall in the basement of Rose's building. She insisted we come down here, where the odds of running into her coworkers were virtually non-existent. She'd taken the test and placed it on top of the toilet paper dispenser before calling me in to be with her while she waited.

"It has to be nothing. I'm on the pill, you know."

I nodded.

"Do you want children?" she asked.

"I think so. I know Edward does."

Did I really just answer a question about my hopes for the future with a statement about Edward's?

"Are things that serious between the two of you?"

"He's seventeen. How serious could it be?"

"Like that matters. I've seen the way he looks at you."

"You know how I feel about him. He challenges me like no one I've ever known. He's brilliant and wise and funny and I love every second I spend with him. But then we're watching TV or something and the President holds a news conference. I ask Edward who he voted for; he laughs at me because he still has a year before he can vote."

"He won't be seventeen forever. The older you both get, the less it matters, and by the time he's done at Princeton, it won't matter at all."

"I'm just concerned about getting to that point. I don't want to hold him back, you know?"

"You're not holding him back if it's what he wants. If he's old enough to fuck you, then he's old enough to decide for himself what he wants from life."

"I just don't want him to miss out on things because he's with me."

"That's so condescending. You claim you love him, yet you don't trust him to make his own decisions. Do you want an equal or a sex toy?"

"You're over-simplifying it."

"No, you're making it more complicated than it needs to be."

I decided to change the subject. "Does Emmett know you're late?"

"No. I didn't want to worry him needlessly. No sense for us both to spend half the day freaking the fuck out."

"Would he freak out?"

"Yes, Bella. He'd freak out."

"Have you two thought much about when you wanted to start a family?" I asked.

"A bit," she said. "It was all theoretical though. We discussed having children in five years or so. You know, when he was finished with school and actually had a job–not while he has no income and I'm still working a hundred hours a week. I'm on track to making partner. Lots of women have babies once they get there, but they almost never get there after they have babies. I've worked my ass off for so many years; I should care about that. I should care that if I'm pregnant the past ten years may as well be all for nothing."

"But you don't."

"Not really." She began to cry.

"It's going to be okay, Rose. One way or another, it's going to be okay."

I grabbed some toilet paper so she could wipe her eyes. When I saw the dispenser, the pregnancy test jumped out at me. Rose's eyes followed mine, and she silently read the result.

"Looks like I just traded in my corner office for a nurser." A small smile formed on her mouth.

For the next several minutes, we stood in the bathroom stall with our arms around each other, staring at the tiny piece of plastic that just changed her life.

"Are you scared?"

"Yes," she admitted. "But I'm also deliriously happy." She threw the positive test in the box on the wall meant for tampons and pads and opened the door of the stall. She walked over to the sink and washed her face.

"Emmett said he wanted it all with me–the marriage, the babies, the mortgage. I guess I'll find out if he actually meant it."

"I think he meant it."

"Me, too." She reached over and squeezed my hand. "Thank you, Bella. For everything."

An hour later, I arrived home to find Edward playing my piano. He stopped and swung his legs to the other side of the piano bench when he saw me enter the living room.

"Where've you been all afternoon?" he asked. "I missed you."

"With Rose. She's pregnant; she just found out."

"I didn't realize they were trying," Edward said. "That's great news."

"They weren't. She's happy, but scared about what this means for her career and how Emmett will react."

"Why is she worried about Emmett? He's going to be ecstatic."

His reactions surprised me.

"You think?"

"I know."

"He's a bit young to be a father," I said.

"According to whom?"

"Well, society I guess. People seem to start families later and later these days, to experience life a bit more first."

"It's a baby, not a death sentence."

"There are certain things that people need to experience," I explained. "If you settle down too quickly it's not something you get over. People don't just decide that they are okay with the things they might have missed. At best, they have miserable mid-life crises. At worst they…" I stopped. I didn't want to make this about Edward and me.

"At worst what? Are we talking about the proverbial wild oats here? Because not everyone needs to sow them. Personally, I rather skip meaningless experiences and get right to the significant ones."

Not everyone was like Edward, and I decided to complete my statement.

"At worst you flip out and abandon your infant daughter." I wasn't speaking theoretically anymore, nor was I talking about Emmett.

Edward's sharp intake of breath told me he knew this. He slid off the piano bench and knelt in front of me, forcing me to make eye contact with him.

"I'm not your mother," he said quietly. "And I'm not your ex-boyfriend. I don't need to go out and fuck fifty girls to be sure you're the right one. I know you're the right one. I believe in us. My only reservation is that you don't."

"How does my concern over Emmett's readiness for parenthood make you question how I feel about our relationship?"

"Because Emmett loves Rose the same way I love you. You know this. You've seen it. And yet you sit here doubting Emmett, not realizing that by extension, you are doubting me."

I averted my eyes again, but Edward was having none of it.

"Hey." He touched my cheek. "Look at me."

I slowly met his gaze.

"I love you. I don't know what it will take to get you to believe that."

"Come upstairs with me."

He shook his head. "No, Bella. It's not going to work. You are constantly letting your words and actions convey the true extent to which you doubt my love for you, and then you try to use sex to convince me I'm wrong. Sex proves nothing."

"Fine, then. I'm afraid we won't survive your first month at college, and that you only think you love me because you haven't really seen what else is out there."

"I don't give a fuck what else is out there. This is all I've ever wanted. Look at my family. My parents are every bit as in love with each other as they were the day they got married nearly twenty years ago. You know, my father and I discussed this in depth when I realized I was in love with you. I asked him if he thought I was crazy for being so sure I'd found the person with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life. He told me that although he enjoyed being single at the time, there wasn't a single thing he experienced as a bachelor that wouldn't have been a thousand times better with my mother at his side. If he had found her when he was seventeen, he would have set out to make her his and never looked back. I love you the same way. Why do you have such a hard time believing that?"

I wanted to believe him more than anything. We did go upstairs, but only because the lack of furniture in my living room didn't lend itself to physical comfort. I ended up on my bed in his arms, fully clothed and silent until Edward finally spoke.

"If our roles were reversed, if you found me when you were seventeen and I wound up being the only lover you ever knew, would you feel as though you missed out?"

"No."

He rolled on top of me, pressing his body into mine.

"Exactly."

He put his lips against mine, and I needed him inside me–not because I had anything to prove, but to be as close to him as possible. We only had a few weeks left like this, where we had nothing with which to fill our days but each other. I wasn't going to allow myself to waste another second dwelling on my own insecurities. We made quick work of each other's clothing and soon we were joined. After we were both spent, we lingered in bed enjoying the feel of the other's bare skin.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"You're truly not at all curious?"

"About what?"

"About sex with other women. You know, seeing what else is out there."

"No. I'll never understand why that is so hard for you to believe. Now, may I ask you something?"

"Of course," I said.

"Why won't you tell me your number?"

"What number?"

"The number of partners you've had. I don't care what it is, you know. It just bothers me you don't trust me with it. Please, Bella?"

"No."

"But I told you mine."

"Silly, Edward. We both know you had nothing to tell." I rolled away from him, clutching the sheet against my bare breasts. I stepped out of the bed and into the sunlight. I stood in front of the window and closed my eyes, letting the afternoon sun warm my face. The sheet suddenly pulled away from my chest and there was Edward, holding its other end, naked in my bed.

"I do, now."

I joined him on the bed, pushing the thoughts that only a moment ago weighed so heavily on me from my consciousness.

"Oh, really?" I asked.

He nodded. As always, our banter was our foreplay.

"Perhaps we should start over then." I put my hands on his chest and climbed on top of him, straddling his pelvis between my legs. "So, Edward, how many sexual partners have you had?"

I ground my hips against his. I would play along, but I wasn't about to make this easy for him.

"One." His voice was not much louder than a whisper.

"One?"

"Yes. Exactly one. I'd watched her for months."

"Hmm…you don't say."

"Yes. She was forbidden."

"My, my." I trailed a fingertip down his chest to the patch of hair below his navel. "What made you decide to pursue her?"

"She did. I ran into her at the Art Museum on a Friday night. There was a jazz quartet playing and she was stood there alone and swayed to the music. When I noticed her glass of wine was empty, I brought her another one. She thanked me and I struck up a conversation with her. She didn't talk down to me like teachers usually do, and she did not treat me as if I were a freak. Only my family had ever done that, had ever treated me as an equal."

"I was never your teacher."

"No, you weren't. Well, not in the classroom anyway."

He reached up and pinched my nipple. I gasped, he hardened and before I could even verbalize my need, he entered me. As he began to move, I remembered how in a few weeks this would all end. I would have to let him go. I didn't allow the thought to linger. When the time came, I would let him go and hope that he came back to me. I did exactly what I did best while in Edward's presence; I let everything that was not directly related to the pleasure he brought my body and the joy he brought my soul drift away, focusing instead on the beautiful boy beneath me.

Hours later, as I lay quietly on his chest, I thought about Rose's words. I wasn't treating him as my equal if I insisted on making decisions for him, and my reluctance to be honest with him was nothing more than me deciding on his behalf what information he could handle.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"About my number…you know, how many sexual partners I've had. It's not that I don't trust you. That's not why I haven't told you what it is."

"Why is it then?"

"It's because I don't know the answer." I felt him swallow beneath me. "If I had to guess, I'd say somewhere around forty."

"Was that so hard?"

I lifted myself on my elbows to look at him. "It doesn't bother you?"

He shook his head. "You won't be upset with me if I'm honest with you now?"

"Of course not."

"I actually thought the number was much higher."

When I finished laughing, he kissed me. Soon the only number that mattered pertained to the amount of times we would have sex before the sun went down.

Edward said he was going for seven.


	19. Soft Construction with Boiled Beans

**chapter eighteen**

**soft construction with boiled beans (premonition of civil war)**

* * *

After Edward went home, I finally called Alice.

"Bella! I was just getting ready to call you. I have a fitting for my dress tomorrow, and your dress and Rose's dress have also arrived. I pulled so strings to get us all in at the same time tomorrow evening. I just spoke with Rose and she can make it. Can you be at the store at by five?"

I wondered why Rose hadn't told Alice about the baby.

"Sure, no problem."

"Thanks. Look, I know I've been a little OCD about the wedding, and I really appreciate you putting up with it. I don't think I could have done all this without you."

"Well, you only get married for the first time once," I joked.

She laughed. "In swoops Swan with her trademark fatalism! Seriously, you know Jazz is it for me."

"Oh, I know this is it for you, because I am sure as shit never doing this for you again. Do you have anything going on afterward? Maybe we can get a drink. I have some things I'd like to bounce off of you."

God, did I ever.

"Sure, that sounds good. Looks like my next client is a few minutes early. I'll see you later. Bye!"

I met Rose at her office building and we drove out to King of Prussia together. As soon as we were alone in her car, my curiosity overwhelmed me.

"Did you tell Emmett last night?"

"Yes," she said, beaming. "I told him I was pregnant and less than a second later he was down on one knee. He said he would have asked me sooner, but thought I needed more time."

"You're engaged?"

Rose nodded.

"Mazel tov!" I said. "Please, don't turn into Alice."

She laughed. "If I ever become that crazy, put me out of my misery. Besides, neither of us wants all that. We're thinking about a very small, traditional ceremony and maybe going to dinner afterward. Nothing over the top. We're hoping to pull it all together by October."

"Sounds lovely. I'm so happy for you. So, is there a reason you haven't told Alice?"

"No, not really. We're just not telling anyone until I see a doctor and make sure everything is okay. I want this so badly, and I'm feeling a little superstitious."

"I'll keep it quiet then. I did tell Edward, I hope you don't mind."

"No, that's fine. Emmett will probably call him today and tell him anyway."

"Shit, that reminds me. I forgot to tell Edward I was going out tonight. I may hitch a ride back to Center City with Alice. I'm hoping to tell Alice about him when we're done with fittings."

"It's about time, Bella. Really."

"I know." I pulled my iPhone out of my purse and sent a quick text to Edward telling him I wouldn't be home until much later.

"Does Edward know your best friend doesn't know he exists?"

"No, and he's been pressing me to meet her."

"Are you sure you don't want me with you for this?" Rose asked.

"No, you should get home and rest. Besides, it's just Alice. Sure, she doesn't typically acknowledge the existence of moral ambiguity, but she loves me and wants me to be happy. She'll be fine with it."

I was trying to convince myself more than Rose.

When we arrived at Neiman Marcus, Rose and I walked into the palatial fitting room to find Alice standing in front of a three way mirror in her wedding gown. I'd heard her describe it and I'd seen pictures, but nothing prepared me for the actual vision. It was ivory silk with small chiffon flowers on the bodice. The skirt was full, but not so much that it dwarfed her tiny frame. It was modern while still being classic, fun while still being beautiful. It was, in a word, Alice. She took my breath away.

"It's amazing, Alice," I said from across the room.

"Really?"

"Really," Rose affirmed.

Alice giggled, shrugged her shoulders and turned back to face the mirror. I placed my iPhone on the armchair just inside the room before approaching Alice to get a closer look.

The seamstress was discussing Alice's options for bustling the train during the reception. After a decision was made, Alice moved across the room to the arm chair.

"I need to sit down. I've been running around like a crazy person all day and I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off."

She sat in the armchair and glanced down at my phone as she moved it out of the way.

"Looks like you have a text message. 'Stay out as late as you want, I'll be waiting for you in bed.' Whoa, when did you start seeing someone? This is amazing. I can't believe you didn't tell me. How did you meet? And he has a key to your house? This is so exciting, Bella. I'm so happy for you. I want to hear everything about him. Start at the beginning and be very detailed."

This wasn't how I'd planned on telling Alice, but it eliminated the awkward lead up.

"I met him at the Art Museum a while back. We've only been dating since June."

"June? Two months and you didn't even tell me. This is the longest you've been with someone since that asshole from college whose name I won't mention. I'm so happy for you; I was so afraid you'd never open yourself up again. How did it all start? I want to know everything."

She was bubbly and adorable, sitting there in her wedding gown, asking me to dish about Edward. I naively took the bait.

"Actually, we met in February. We just started to date in June. I was waiting for him to graduate."

"College? Where did he go?"

"Um, no, high school," I whispered.

The seamstress returned with two helpers, each one holding a bridesmaid dress.

Alice looked over at the room, sizing up the audience. "Okay, everybody out!"

I watched as the staff filed through the door. Rose went to follow them until Alice grabbed her wrist on her way out. Her voice was void of any emotion, almost mechanical when as she spoke to Rose. "Except you. You stay."

This was not going to be good.

"Let me get this straight. For the past two months, you've been in a relationship with a kid right out of high school?"

I was going to have to deal with this sooner or later. I looked Alice in the eye and prayed my voice wouldn't waver.

"Yes."

"So he's eighteen?"

"Seventeen," I corrected quietly.

"Seventeen," she repeated. She looked over at Rose. "Is that even legal?"

"Yes," Rose confirmed.

"You don't seem at all surprised by this. I take it you knew?"

Rose nodded.

"I see," Alice said. "And you condone this?"

"It's not my place, nor is it your place to condone Bella's actions." Rose's tone was carefully measured. "Calm down, Alice."

"I will not calm down. Bella, what the fuck is wrong with you? Have you completely lost your mind? He's seventeen. Seven fucking teen! There are students at your school who are seventeen."

I looked down at my feet nervously.

"Oh my god, he goes to your school, doesn't he?"

"I told you, he graduated." My voice was barely above a whisper.

"Oh, well, then that makes it all okay," she said patronizingly. "How can you do this? You're a teacher. And I don't give a shit if you were never his teacher, you're still a teacher. People entrust their children to your care. Children, Bella. Think people would do that willingly if they knew you were fucking one? That you have no problem viewing a boy only two years older than the boys in your class as a sexual object? And don't even try to tell me this isn't about sex. With you, it is always about sex."

I wasn't sure at what point during her diatribe I had begun to cry. Nothing she'd said was untrue; sex was a factor, but my relationship with Edward was about so much more than sex.

"You can't even defend your own actions, and do you know why? Because what you're doing is indefensible. Look, I lived with you for how many years? I've seen how you operate, and you know what, it was okay. The one night stands, the flings, the random sex, the experimentation with bisexuality–I stood by and watched it all and I never once judged you because I understood that you were filling a void and no one was getting hurt. All these years I've wanted more than anything for you to have someone with whom you would feel comfortable enough to allow to get close to you and hopefully show you that not everyone you love will walk out on you. And here we are–you tell me you've found someone, and I'm thrilled for you, really I am. Then you tell me he's seventeen. Am I not supposed to question your sanity? You spend the past five years shying away from all emotional attachments because of your lifetime of unaddressed abandonment issues and when you do finally decide to pursue a relationship, it's with a student at the school where you teach. And you expect me to believe that this isn't about power and that you aren't only okay with this because his age and position assures you the upper hand? My brother is seventeen, Bella! He plays video games and skateboards all day for god's sake. How could you even find that attractive?"

"Edward isn't like that. He's very advanced and mature–"

"He very well may be mature for seventeen, but he's still seventeen! What, did you run out of guys your own age? Maybe Jasper should have gone to NYU. Maybe with a population as large as Manhattan's, you could have made it through three whole years before you needed to resort to the high-school crowd."

"Enough." Rose broke through Alice's rant using her courtroom voice. "Look, I understand that you are a little freaked out by the fact he's the same age as Jake, and Bella did lie to you by omission for the past two months, so I let you have your little moment. Now it's done and I'm cutting you off. I have gotten to know Edward fairly well. Edward is extremely intelligent and articulate. Bella has not taken advantage of Edward. He knows exactly what he is doing."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."

Rose continued, "Alice, nothing about Edward would make you think he was seventeen years old except the date on his driver's license."

"Is that how she justified it to you?"

"She didn't have to justify it to me. I've seen how they function as a couple. They're good for each other. So she's eight years older than he is. Big deal. Eight years from now, do you think that will matter? Shit, four years from now do you think that will matter?"

"If they are truly meant to be together, she could have waited until he was an adult and they still would have found each other."

"What good would that do, besides waste precious time while they both use other people for filler? What if Jasper had been younger? Would you have not pursued him? Would you have waited because some other people might not understand? Would you put your life on hold?"

Rose sighed; Alice said nothing.

"Bella has done a lot of things wrong, but so have you, Alice. She's struggled with her fear of telling you for months…"

"Which tells you everything you need to know right there, doesn't it? She knows it's wrong and she's ashamed of herself."

"I'm not ashamed of myself," I clarified.

"No?" Alice asked. "Then why am I finding out now, because I happened to see a text message. You were afraid to tell me because you know it's wrong."

"No, Alice, I was afraid to tell you because of some of the really judgmental things you've said about Rose and Emmett."

I regretted it the instant it was out of my mouth.

"Really?" Rose's voice was completely detached. "Now this is getting interesting. Care to elaborate, Alice?"

"Bella's making it sound much worse than it was. I expressed concern that Emmett would never be ready to have kids while you were still physically able to do so. I was not passing judgment, merely stating biological fact. It wouldn't have even come up, except I know how much you want to be a mother."

"You said that?" Rose laughed coldly as she looked over at Alice. "Lovely."

"I'm sorry, Rose," I said. "I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay."

For the next several minutes, Rose and I stood in front of Alice in silence. Finally, Alice spoke.

"Are you in love with him?"

"Yes," I answered.

"And he loves you?"

"Very much."

"It's all just so…"

She never verbalized the rest of her thought, and I decided I'd had enough.

"I'm done talking about this. Nothing I say will change the way you feel. I love you like you were my sister, but I really don't care if you disapprove. Your inability to get beyond your ridiculous prejudices is your own loss. If you still want me to be in your wedding, I will be there to support you, despite the fact you don't support me." I turned to Rose. "I'll wait for you by the car."

I walked out of Neiman Marcus without looking back.


	20. The Family

**chapter nineteen**

**the family**

* * *

Rose and I were halfway down the Schuylkill Expressway before either of us spoke.

"I think that went well," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I burst into tears.

"It's not about your actual relationship; she doesn't _know_Edward. Shit, if we wanted to be real here, she doesn't even know you. She knows who you were and things you've done. Both are past tense. She doesn't know how Edward's changed you. She's letting that cloud her perception of the situation. She'll come around. And if she doesn't? Fuck her."

"You let her have it after I left, didn't you?"

"I think I exhibited great restraint—I just let her in on the institution of female friendship according to Rose. In my world, it's not kosher to call your bff a slut unless you mean it as a compliment."

"Is it ever a compliment?"

"Are you kidding? In my world, it usually is."

I laughed even though I was crying.

"See? You can still smile. It's not the end of the world. I will say this—I was never so happy that I chose to keep my pregnancy secret. I'm sure if she knew about the baby, she'd think Em was just marrying me to do the right thing. I got an obscene amount of pleasure from telling her about my engagement after you left. I'm not sure where she got her perception of Emmett as this overgrown frat boy fearful of any real commitments. He and Jasper are the same age, and Jasper is more than willing to marry her in a few weeks."

"Alice gave Jasper an ultimatum."

"What?"

"Jasper and Alice. He wanted to have his PhD first. She told him she'd move back to Ohio if he didn't make it official by the end of the year."

"The plot thickens. I would never have guessed that one."

The remainder of the ride to New Jersey was silent. When we got to my house, Edward's car wasn't in the driveway.

"I'm home early. I told him I'd be out late."

"I'm not leaving you alone," Rose insisted.

"You don't have to babysit me. You have enough going on, and I know you're exhausted. Edward's parents live a few blocks away from you on Warwick Road. Would you mind dropping me off there?"

"Not at all," she said as she put her car back in gear.

After we pulled into Edward's driveway, Rose leaned over and gave me a hug.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Thank you. Now please go get some rest. Sleeping for two, remember?" I managed a small smile before getting out of the car and walking to the front door. I rang the bell, hoping Edward would answer.

Instead, I was greeted by Esme.

"Bella, are you alright? You look like you've been crying."

"Is Edward home?"

"He ran to the store for me; he should be back soon. Come on inside." She pulled me inside the house and led me to the family room.

"Sit down, and I'll get you a drink." She handed me a glass of wine before joining me on the sofa. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's somewhat embarrassing."

"I've heard it all."

"I hadn't told my best friend about my relationship with Edward until just now, and it didn't go well. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it wouldn't, which is why I put it off for so long."

"Are we talking about Alice?"

I nodded.

"I'm not surprised." She put down her wine glass. "I wish I could tell you that Alice is in the minority and that you aren't going to encounter this again and again, but I won't lie to you. Tonight is just the beginning. Edward swears he's up for it, but his age absolves him of any responsibility—it's your character that will be called into question."

"I know, and I don't expect the rest of the world to understand. I just didn't expect this from Alice. We were like sisters."

"The people who claim to love us the most are often our harshest critics. It can be hard to stomach, but I assure you Alice's reaction was more about how she views herself and her own relationships than how she feels about you. You and Edward are up against society's perceptions, and society is comprised of individuals like Alice. The weight of their judgment will fall solely upon you. No one will fault Edward for having feelings towards you. He's a young man and full of hormones. You're a beautiful woman. He's programmed to want you. Society both expects this and encourages it, until the moment it becomes mutual. Then you are cast as the predator and details no longer matter."

Much to my mortification, I began to cry.

"Oh, sweetie, come here." Esme put her arm around me and pulled my head onto her shoulder. I closed my eyes and relaxed into her embrace. "It won't be easy. I wish I could promise you this would be the end of it, but sadly it's just a preview of coming attractions. Only you can decide if it's worth it."

"It's worth it; he's worth it."

She stroked my hair, and my tears ceased.

"Then fuck her."

I had to smile—no wonder her son was fearless. When I opened my eyes, Edward standing in front of us.

"I should let you two have some privacy," Esme said.

When she loosened her arm from my shoulder, I tightened my hold on her.

"I'm always here if you need me, Bella. Edward isn't the only one who loves you."

I may have lost a best friend, but I'd found a mother. She gave me a small squeeze, and I stood to face Edward.

"Why don't you take Bella upstairs? Your father should be home any minute, and I need to make a few business calls."

Edward led me up the back stairs from the kitchen to the second floor.

"I've never been up here," I said.

"I know; it wasn't intentional. It just makes more sense to go to your house." He paused, then added with a blush, "We can be pretty loud, you know."

He opened a five-panel door and gestured me inside his room.

I sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. "There's no easy way for me to say this, so I'm just going to put it out there. You haven't met Alice is because she didn't know about you until tonight."

"Oh." He sat next to me. "I suspected as much. I'm guessing she doesn't approve?"

"That would be an understatement. She said some pretty hateful things—all about me, of course. It doesn't help that she has a brother your age who more or less does nothing but play video games and jerk off. Anyway, I let it slip that Alice has said some less than flattering things about Em and Rose's age difference and that only fueled the fire. I stormed out, and I can only imagine what Rose said to Alice after I left. I don't know, because Rose wouldn't tell me. When I saw you weren't at my house, I asked Rose to bring me here."

"I wish you'd called me ."

"I'm sorry; I was borderline hysterical through most of the drive home. I'd just managed to calm down when we pulled up. Your mother is amazing, by the way. She put a lot of things in perspective for me. I know I'm not blameless in this. I did exacerbate the situation by waiting this long to tell Alice."

"Or you just postponed the inevitable. Regardless, it's not worth beating yourself up over it. I'm sorry being with me comes at such high cost for you, and though I hope for your sake Alice comes around, I'm not optimistic." He leaned back onto the bed and pulled me into his arms. "For the record, I've never been into video games. I will, however, admit to jerking off all day. At least, that's what I did before…"

"I was speaking metaphorically."

"I wasn't," he admitted.

I laughed, and he held me more tightly.

"She's the first, but she won't be the last. I just hope you never doubt that I'm worth this."

"You are."

"How did you leave things?" .

"I told her to let me know if she still wanted me in her wedding. I think what hurt me the most is that nothing she said throughout the whole ordeal was false. Except the bit about my being in a relationship with you because I need to be in control."

Edward laughed. "She said that? I'm sorry, Bella, but that's hilarious."

"Hey, I do have some control here."

His laughter intensified.

"At least I can go on field trips without getting a parental permission slip signed."

"I'll grant you that one, yes," he said. "But that has more to do with legal liability than control."

I sighed. "I understand where she'd get her ideas. I mean, I've told you how I approached relationships before we met. But she pretty much called me a slut and accused me of using you to fill a void. She said your age guaranteed me the upper hand, thus ensuring you never question me or ask for more than I'm willing to give."

"Interesting hypothesis. She obviously took intro-level psych at some point. My mom would have a field day with her. Seriously though, you have to admit Alice's perception of us is comical. I may spend a lot of time on my knees, but I'm far from powerless."

"This is serious."

"I'm just trying to make you laugh. Look, I don't want to defend Alice because a lot of what she said is indefensible. However, in the absence of any actual observation of how we function as a couple, I can see where she would get those ideas."

"You're not angry with me for not telling her until now?"

"No. Her reaction proves you were onto something. I just wish you'd told me. I would have gone with you."

Anvil of deception gone from my shoulders, I noticed our surroundings. We were sitting on a dark wood sleigh bed. One wall had floor to ceiling shelves loaded with books and cds. A plasma television was mounted on the opposite wall with a chocolate brown leather love seat and chair in front of it. The Persian rugs partially covering the random-width planks of the hardwood floor appeared to be antique. There was nothing about this space that would indicate a teenager occupied it. My eyes continued to scan the room, finally settling on the lithograph above the bed.

"Grant Wood?" I asked.

"It doesn't take much to distract you, does it?"

"It's real, isn't it?"

"Yes. They all are."

I didn't know the full extent of the Cullens' wealth, but what I did know made me more than a little uncomfortable. "Your bedroom has more furniture in it than my entire house."

"And your house feels more like home to me," he said. "Funny how that works."

I reached for a tissue from his night stand. A small, sterling silver frame held a yearbook head shot of me. I remember when it was taken. It was muggy and I was having a bad hair day. I wondered how long he'd had it beside his bed.

"I hate that picture," I said, blowing my nose. "You know it's almost three years old, right?"

"I'll take it down on one condition," he offered.

"And what would that be?" I asked.

"Give me a new one with which I can replace it. Or better yet —have some taken with me."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "We've been dating two months, you want to pose for portraits?"

"I'm going to be away from you Monday through Friday. I'll need some eye candy. Besides, it won't be a big ordeal. I'll call our family photographer and he can swing by and take them here. Or even at your house if you'd prefer."

"There will be plenty of eye-candy at Princeton, Edward. Trust me on this. You don't need to commission professional photographs of us to have something to look at."

"Please, Bella?"

I hated having my picture taken. Though now that Alice knew, we were officially 'out' so to speak. I saw no reason to deny him.

"All right."

"Thank you." He pulled me against his chest and kissed my lips.

As I lay next to him in his bed, I felt like I was in heaven. "You won't have a mattress like this in your dorm room, you know."

He laughed. "Bella, there are many things I'm concerned about lacking once I leave for school. Decent furniture appears nowhere on that list."

There was a soft knock on his door. I immediately jumped off of his bed and settled myself into the leather chair across the room. He rolled his eyes at me before standing up and saying, "Come in."

Esme appeared in the doorway.

"Something came up and I need to run out for a while. I'm not sure when I'll be home and your father is still in surgery." She looked over at me. "Are you feeling better, dear?"

I nodded, offering her a small smile.

"Glad to hear it," she said. She turned back to Edward. "Call me if you need anything. And that goes double for you, Bella." She looked back over at me as she said my name. "You are not alone. As far as Carlisle and I are concerned, you're part of the family. You're welcome to stay here if you don't want to go home."

I got up and went over to hug her.

"Thank you, Esme. For everything."

"It's not a big deal, Bella. Truly. It's the least we can do for you." She reached over and ruffled Edward's hair. "Text me and your father if you plan on spending the night at Bella's."

"Thanks, Mom," Edward said.

She stepped out of my embrace and hurried off. Moments later the alarm system chirped, confirming she'd left the house.

"Every time I think I am getting used to your mother, she does something else that just blows me away."

Edward smiled. "I told you in the beginning she was very supportive. She meant it, you know. She adores you. They both do."

"I'm starting to get that. I just don't understand why."

"You're completely selfless. At least, you have been when it came to me."

"Oh believe me, Edward. I'm not and I haven't been."

"Think about it, Bella. I have absolutely nothing to lose here. Sure, in the beginning my mother needed some time to warm up to the idea that her baby boy was dating a teacher at his school. Until it became clear to them that you were willing to risk everything you've worked for to be with me. You still are. I'm not going to pretend I don't fully understand that if the wrong person ran into us while we were out together you wouldn't be completely compromised. No one would ever believe we weren't involved while I was still a student. You place your livelihood in jeopardy each and every time you set foot outside of your house with me. I know all about the ambiguous morality clauses of teaching contracts. And you aren't just risking the ridicule of strangers. Tonight you may have just lost your best friend over me. So you should never question why you have my parents' unwavering support. You have demonstrated time and time again exactly how much you are willing to sacrifice to be with me. Meanwhile, I haven't risked losing a thing."

I took him by the hand pushed him to sit down on the edge of his bed. "I can think of something you lost."

He blushed. God, he was adorable. "That was something I gave to you," he clarified. "Do you want me to take you home?"

I shook my head. "I know there's no way in hell Alice will show up at my house to apologize, but I know that if I go home I'll be disappointed if she doesn't."

"You heard my mother. You're welcome to stay here. Let me show you where the bathroom is and get you something to wear to bed."

I washed up and put on one of his t-shirts. He pulled me into his arms and I settled into bed with him. My last thought before drifting off to sleep was that tomorrow would have to be better.


	21. Mad Girl

**chapter twenty**

**mad girl**

* * *

When I woke, my first thought was that I wanted to stay in Edward's bed forever. Then I rolled over and realized I was alone. I glanced over at the clock on Edward's nightstand. It was after ten. I'd certainly slept late enough. I started to climb out of bed then Edward appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning. I have something for you. Stay right where you are."

I settled myself back against the pillows. "This makes me nervous."

"You should be," he said from out in the hallway. "You should be very afraid." He appeared holding a tray table which he gently placed across my lap. "Breakfast is served."

"Impressive, Cullen. Did you make all this yourself?" I glanced over the contents of the tray. There was coffee, freshly-squeezed orange juice, toast and a bacon and Swiss omelet all artfully laid out on bone china. A small crystal bud vase holding an orange rose and a perfectly pressed linen napkin completed the spread.

"I did indeed."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you trying to get lucky?"

"What makes you think I have an ulterior motive? I could have simply wanted to surprise the woman I love with a meal I prepared for her."

"Thank you. This was very sweet of you." I placed the napkin on my lap and took a bite of the omelet. "And very tasty."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I was worried I overcooked the eggs."

"No, they're perfect."

We continued to talk while I ate. Occasionally, he'd feed me tiny bites of toast and his fingers would touch my mouth. When I finished my breakfast I thanked him again. He moved the tray on to the floor but I held onto my cup of coffee.

"Of course," he said, "I wouldn't mind at all if you were so completely overwhelmed with gratitude you felt compelled to take off your shirt."

I laughed. "So all this…" I gestured toward the empty tray. "…was actually about these," I said, pointing to my breasts.

"It usually is."

"Are we alone?"

"Both of my parents are at work."

"What about your housekeeper?"

"She's off today."

"Okay." I placed the china cup on his nightstand and lifted my shirt up over my head. I picked the cup back up and continued sipping the coffee in Edward's bed wearing just my panties.

Edward licked his lips.

"Why do I get the feeling that that had nothing to do with breakfast?"

He blushed, but that didn't stop him from leaning over and squeezing one of my nipples. "I feel terrible for wanting your body so badly, but I can't help it. I have so many fantasies that involve taking you here in my bed." He took the nipples into his mouth.

Gasping, I put the cup down.

"Are you sure we're alone?" I asked, trailing my hands from his hair to the hem of his shirt.

"Completely."

I pulled his shirt over his head and pushed his pant over his hips. I squeezed his erection as his tongue entered my mouth. Soon his hands settled on my hips and pulled my panties down over my bottom. He rose from the bed, kicked his underwear the rest of the way off, and pulled me to my feet in front of him. The next thing I knew, I was bent over the bed, and he was entering me from behind. His arms circled my waist, holding my ass against him as he thrust.

"Oh, Edward, yes!" I moaned, loving the feel of him from this angle.

"I love you so much," he whispered.

My earlobe was between his teeth, and his movements became frantic.

With a loud moan, he found his release. We fell onto the bed, into a heap of sweaty skin and heaving chests.

"That was exactly what I needed," I said.

Palming my breasts, he smiled. "There's plenty more where that came from."

"You made another omelet? Because I was totally referring to food."

"Is that so?" he asked, tickling me under my arms.

We wrestled on his bed —touching and teasing—until eventually, he was on top of me, pinning my arms above my head. As he placed a slow, deep kiss on my mouth, his cock hardened between my thighs. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and took him inside me. He kept his thrusts shallow and his pace slow, creating just the right amount of friction. When he started to shift his hips as he withdrew, I knew it would be a matter of seconds before I was undone. I bit his shoulder, yelling as my orgasm overtook me.

He rolled onto his side and pulled me into his arms.

"You're shivering," he said, pulling the comforter over us.

"I'm not cold."

"But you're shaking. Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes."

He smiled. "Was it good?"

"It was amazing. I'd never come from sex before. I mean, just actual penetration. I mean, I have, but usually only with direct clit play. Do you know what I mean?" I was stuttering, stumbling over my words, still not really capable of speech.

He shook his head.

"Intercourse, Edward. I mean intercourse."

"What about it?"

"I'd never come from just intercourse."

"Until now?" he asked.

"Until now."

He was beaming. "And I did that for you."

I put my fingers in his hair. "Yes, you did."

I glanced at the clock; it was almost one.

"I should be getting home. I don't have anything over here to change into besides yesterday's clothing, and I've been hiding out over here long enough."

"Okay. After I clear the dishes, I'll drive you home."

A half-hour later, we were in my driveway.

"I'll stay if you want."

"No. It's fine. Really. I know you have things to do to today, and we'd just be postponing the inevitable. Besides, things aren't all that different today than they were yesterday. Alice and I hadn't been as close as we used to be since she became wedding-obsessed. Not hearing from her simply means I'm missing a long-winded discussion regarding the difference between azure and periwinkle. I just wish…"

"What?"

"I just wish you had a chance to know who she was before all this. She was always a little too caught up in appearances, but a lot of that is just how she was raised. She can be so much fun. She's neurotic and obsessive, and she would do anything for a friend. When I was pregnant…" My voice broke and I paused, swallowing hard before I continued. "When I was pregnant, she never judged me. She said the only difference between her and me was luck. I know that was a different situation, that when she found out about us she'd need some convincing, but I never expected it would go like this."

He reached over and hugged me. "It's going to be okay. She could come around."

"Honestly, I'm not sure I want her to. The more I think about it— the more I replay her exact words in my head— the less certain I am I could forgive her. I'm not even sure I want to."

"And you know what? That's okay, too." He placed a quick kiss on my mouth. "You'll call me if you need me, right?"

"Yes," I said, getting out of the car.

After watching him back out of the driveway, I went inside my house. Two minutes later, I heard the doorbell. I couldn't help but laugh—though the boy had a key and let himself in almost every morning, he still couldn't do so while I was awake. I was still giggle when I opened the door.

"Forget something?"

"Many things, apparently." Alice's quiet voice betrayed no emotion. "May I come in?"

I silently pushed the door open wide enough for her to step into my living room. She came inside and stood nervously in front of the piano. I pulled the door closed but continued to stand in front of it.

"Bella, I–"

"Don't. There's nothing you can say to me today that will undo what you said to me yesterday."

"But if I explained a little–"

"I don't want you to explain. Look, I'm through here. Really. I'll do the wedding because it's a few weeks away, but that's it. You know, for most of the drive home last night I tried to think of ways to prove that you're wrong about me—that nothing about my relationship with Edward is what you think. I thought if I could just convince you I struggled with this, and that the connection we have is more powerful than age and time, you'd come to accept us. But I shouldn't have to cheapen my relationship with Edward by justifying it to you —or anyone, for that matter. If you loved me as much as you claim you do, you'd trust my judgment." I opened the door. "I'll see you on your wedding day, Alice. I'll be at the church in time to walk you down the aisle, and I'll stay at the reception long enough to watch you cut the cake. After that, we're done."

I nodded toward the door; she stepped over the threshold and onto the porch.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

After I closed the door behind her, I leaned against it, sliding slowly onto the cool hardwood floor. I wished I cared enough to cry.


	22. Stolen Pleasures

**chapter twenty-one**

**stolen pleasures**

* * *

If there was one thing I learned about Edward, it was that he was the kind of person who felt compelled to fix things. He was far too analytical to ever just listen. Instead, he'd pay careful attention, his mind actively taking notes even while his hands sat idly. He'd then embark upon a trademark brain-storming session, using his own model of problem solving not all that different from the scientific method. When it came to my relationship with Alice, he was clearly at a loss. In lieu of offering a solution, he settled for cheering me up by whisking me off to the beach house. As the Volvo sped down the Garden State Parkway, I wondered if this was a preview of coming attractions—if running was becoming the new solving. There'd be serious ramifications if we were to fall into the habit of favoring flight over fight.

"We can't leave town every time someone disapproves of us."

"Is that what you think we're doing?"

"What would you call it?"

"Some private time with my girlfriend, whom I adore and only have a short time left of having at my disposal."

"I'm at your disposal?"

"Well, more or less." He smiled.

I rolled my eyes.

"My parents will probably join us on the weekend, but until then the house is all ours."

I had a mental image of how we could spend the next few days —in bed, on the beach, in the pool, in the sand.

In the sand? I hated sand. A year ago, no one would have been able to convince me to attempt sex acts in sand. I smiled at the realization that being with Edward changed me in so many ways.

"Is that a good plan?"

"Yes, but that's not why I was smiling. I just had a mini-epiphany," I explained.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Being with you makes me want to do things I never thought I would. And I'm not just trying to appease you, though making you happy is certainly part of it. It's that the appeal of certain activities increases exponentially in your company."

"Certain activities?"

"You know what I mean," I said, stroking his thigh.

He laughed. "As if there's anything like that you haven't done. By your own admission, you've done everything."

"That may have been a slight hyperbole on my part. I wasn't entirely comfortable with the conversation at the time."

"Are you now?"

"Yes. Now I feel as if I could tell you anything."

"Huh."

"You seem perplexed."

"Well, I kind of am. I always felt I could tell you anything. There were just some things I didn't want you to know, most of which you either figured out for yourself or I ended up telling you anyway."

"There were things you didn't want me to know?"

"Yes."

"Like what?"

He laughed. "Like I'd fall for that. None of it is a big deal, and all of it is fantasy-related."

"As in sexual fantasies?"

"Yes."

"Do any of them involve me?"

"Bella, _all_ of them involve you."

"I can't make them reality if I don't know what they are."

"Duly noted."

A thought occurred to me. "You know, you could make one of mine happen right now. Ever hear of road head?"

"Are you suggesting…" His omnipresent blush intensified.

My hand squeezed him through his pants. "Yes. I want to suck you while you drive."

"We're in a convertible."

"So?"

"Anyone could see us. Your boobs could knock the car out of gear. Not to mention, I've only been driving for a couple of months, and I still have two probationary points on my insurance. I'm not experienced at either of the skills involved–"

"What skills?"

"Well, driving and…you know. I could jerk us off–"

"You could jerk us off while I did it? Even better! I'm wearing a skirt, it'll be easy." I shimmied out of my panties and shoved them in the glove compartment.

"The_ road_. I could jerk the car off the road. We'd end up in the bay. Even if didn't die, we'd still get caught. Do you realize I only have a provisional driver's license?"

"Nice to see someone was paying attention in Driver's Ed," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'll be sure to let Mr. Banner know his scare tactics have been incredibly effective.".

"For the record, the safety or lack thereof involved with receiving road head is not currently part of the Driver's Education curriculum."

He was flustered. It was cute.

"Well, if you don't want me to go down on you-"

"Believe me, I want you to go down on me. I'm just afraid I'll lose control and kill us both. Or we'll both get arrested for committing a lewd act-"

"I'm sure there's nothing lewd about sucking your cock. I'm actually kind of appalled we haven't gotten around to doing that yet."

"Try explaining that to the school board when they ask you to elaborate on your new-found criminal record."

I hated it when he was right. "Fine. No road head."

"Believe me, the issue is not with the act itself. I'm more than happy to let you do whatever you want to me, as long as it doesn't place our lives or your job directly at risk."

"Anything I want?"

"I'll probably regret this later, but yes—anything you want. Did you have something else in mind specifically?"

"Well…no, but now that I know you won't tell me no, I can be all sorts of creative."

"Are you implying that what we've done thus far has been mundane?"

"Oh, if you only knew." I reached over and squeezed his cheek. "And you will. Soon."

His face was on fire, but still he smiled.. The corners of his mouth dimpled slightly and his eyes—though watching the road —were downcast in embarrassment. I couldn't wait until we got to the beach house so I could corrupt him a bit more. I was going to hell, and I knew it. But since it was inevitable, I decided I might as well do it thoroughly.

Half an hour later, we pulled into the driveway of the beach house alongside a familiar red BMW.

I turned to Edward. "Rose?"

"Well, I can't do anything about Alice. But I thought it would be nice for you to have a little reminder that you do have friends who love and support you."

I leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much."

"Hey, before you give me too much credit, I didn't exactly sign up for an estrogen fest. Emmett is here, too. We should go find them. They're probably waiting for us on the beach. I wasn't expecting them to get here before we did."

We went inside and dropped our bags in the foyer before we went to find Rose and Emmett. Edward led Emmett off to give him a tour and show him the surrounding neighborhood while Rose and I settled into lounge chairs by the pool. There were about five minutes of small talk before the Alice conversation came up.

"Look, I know she said some awful things. And you have every right to be pissed. Shit, I'm pissed at her, too, and what she said about me was nothing in comparison to litany of swamp ass to which she subjected you. But did it occur to you that she came over to apologize?"

"That's the thing—it doesn't matter. Even if she had, she was probably sorry for what she said and not at all remorseful for what she thought. She has something of a filter; you know she censored herself at least a little. I don't know how I can look at her without rehashing it—not yet, anyway. Have you spoken to since the other night?"

"Yes, actually. I told her I thought she should exchange my dress for a size ten because I was planning on having a boob job between now and her wedding."

I choked on my wine. "You didn't."

"How else could I handle it? I know I won't be showing at that point, but my tits have already grown, and I fully expect to thicker around the middle even if I don't have a discernible bump."

"Did she believe you?"

"Well, she offered to help take care of me after the surgery, so I'm thinking she did. Though, she did go on for about five minutes straight about how my tits were already fabulous."

"That is truly hilarious. And she's right—they are."

Rose smiled. "I think she's just happy that I accepted her apology and was still willing to be in her wedding. So she now thinks I'm getting enlarged to DD cups. I probably could have gotten her to believe just about anything yesterday. I was half tempted to really mess with her and tell her Emmett was a post-op transsexual just to see how she'd react, but even I couldn't be that much of a bitch."

"I would have paid to see that."

"So would Emmett. Anyway, I know it's none of my business, but you really should hear her out."

"I should do a lot of things. However, at the moment I'm going to blow all of them off and enjoy my last days with Edward before school starts."

"I thought that was coming up. Lapsed into crisis mode yet?"

"I'm taking it as it come. He says he'll be home on weekends. I don't want him to miss out on the experience of being a college student and living on campus, but I'm way too selfish to discourage him from coming down to see me."

"Now that is the smartest thing I've heard you say in a long time. Do you mind if I call Emmett and tell them to haul their asses back up here? I'm starving."

Rose and Emmett left a few hours later, after Edward tried unsuccessfully to convince them to spend the night. I have to admit, I was happy they declined. I didn't want to play hostess in Esme's house; I just wanted to bask in the glory that was Edward.

The front door had been closed for about five seconds before I fell to my knees and opened his pants, grasping his shaft in my hands before taking him into my mouth.

"Oh god," he groaned, holding my head in his hands.

I worked him in out of me, squeezing the base of his cock with one hand while cupping his balls in the other. My eyes remained focused on his the entire time. As I drank what he offered, I realized I'd never needed another human being more than I needed him. On my knees with him in my mouth, I didn't feel the power rush I usually got when giving head. I just felt him.

I decided not to analyze it. Being in the moment with Edward was more than enough for me.

It was everything.


	23. Breaking Home Ties

**chapter twenty-two**

**breaking home ties**

* * *

We spent the final days of summer at the shore house, with Carlisle and Esme joining us when their schedules permitted. Photographs were taken, bags were packed, and I soon found myself in the classroom counting books and and dusting off lesson plans. Though fall in Philadelphia was my favorite season, this year its arrival was tinged with regret and more than a little fear.

Edward's room assignment put him in one of the oldest buildings on campus. where he'd be sharing a bedroom and small common room with two other guys. As much as I wanted to be there when he moved in the next day, I had to work. Although I was sure I'd feel very out of place among the students and their parents, I still felt more than a little sad that I was missing such an important milestone in Edward's life.

Late that afternoon, we found ourselves on our bench at the Art Museum, where surrounded by the familiar we prepared to face the unknown.

"Nothing needs to change," Edward said, bringing my hand to his lips. "We're still us. I'm still me."

For all his maturity, he still lacked the necessary experience to fully comprehend the magnitude of the journey on which he was about to embark.

"You'll change. _We_ will change. There's no getting around that."

He smiled. "For the better."

"Maybe. Are you nervous?"

"Not really. I know that sounds cocky. I suppose I should be nervous about my ability to keep up with my course load, but I have no doubt I can do it. I'm actually looking forward to the challenge. Nothing else is really a concern to me."

He stood and pulled me to my feet. "Come on."

We walked through the modern gallery, to the dark room with the peepholes.

"Do you remember the last time we were back here?"

I nodded, smiling. "You were so—for lack of a better word—commanding."

"That's how it came off to you?" He laughed. "I was terrified. I knew I needed to change your perception of me, to get you to see me as a potential suitor. I thought showing you _Ètant Donnès_ would let me know once and for all if you could be interested in me romantically."

I stared at him in wonder. "It was a test?"

"More or less. It was just you, me, and a dirty, dirty work of art. You'd either admit to yourself you found me attractive, or you'd be revolted. Either way, I'd have my answer."

His intelligence frightened me.

"Meanwhile," he continued, "from the moment you arrived, I wanted to kiss you so badly. Did you know I could see your nipples through your top?"

I shook my head.

"Not only that, but your skirt hung low on your hips, and I kept getting glimpses of skin. I'd planned on being completely respectful—on waiting until I'd taken you out on a proper date to lay a finger on you—but when you leaned in to look more closely…" He gestured toward the doors. "Go ahead. Look."

I turned and peered through the peepholes.

"Your shirt rode up ever so slightly in the back, and I could see the top of your thong. I _needed_ to touch you, and this…" He placed his hands on my hips. "…seemed like the safest place. I could feel your body against me…" His chest was against my back, and his lips brushed my ear. "…while sparing you my hard-on."

"You were hard?"

He pulled my hips against his, letting me feel his answer.

"Yes." He let out a small laugh. "Still, I didn't want to assault you with it. I just wanted to see if you were as attracted to me as I was to you, and if I could arouse you the way you did me."

He turned me to face him and ran his hands up my sides. This time, his thumbs grazed my nipples, causing them to harden under my tank top. My breath caught in my throat, and my hands found his face.

"I very nearly kissed you; I wanted to more than anything."

This time, he did.

I opened my eyes to his smile. "Why didn't you?"

"I couldn't. You were still making me call you Ms. Swan."

"I thought I wouldn't fall for you if I had the constant auditory reminder of my position of authority."

He rolled his eyes. "Look how well that worked. Do you know why I wanted to come here?"

"Foreplay?" I guessed, only half kidding.

"No. I know you fear change, but we've changed so much already."

Knowing exactly what he wanted to prove, I pulled him against me and kissed his lips.

We didn't linger at the Art Museum. His parents were planning a special dinner for him with all of his favorite foods. While Carlisle and Edward were packing up the SUV for tomorrow, Esme pulled me into the parlor and poured me a glass of wine.

"I've been meaning to ask you," she began. "Has anything changed with Alice?"

"Not really. I haven't spoken to her since she came by my house that day, though I did receive my dress for the wedding via FedEx the other day. There was a letter enclosed, but I haven't read it. I sent the dress off to be shortened anyway. I have every intention of following through with the wedding."

"Why won't you read the letter?"

"Because if it contains more of the same, I don't want to hear it."

"But if it doesn't?"

"There isn't anything she could say to me right now that would make me feel better about things. What she said to me at her fitting went well beyond her disapproval of my relationship with Edward. She made it clear she disapproves of me in general."

"It would certainly appear that way," Esme said. "But you of all people should know how deceptive appearances can be. I'm going to miss you. I know you aren't leaving our lives, and we'll see you when Edward comes home to visit. As ludicrous as it sounds, I feel as if I'm sending two kids to Princeton tomorrow. If it doesn't seem strange to you, Carlisle and I would love it if you continued to come to dinner on Sundays. Please don't feel obligated. We know you have friends and commitments, but we would like to see you if you have the time for us."

I hugged her tightly, mainly so she couldn't see my eyes start to tear up. "I'd love that."

Dinner was served, and before long, the four of us we were sitting around the family room laughing. Carlisle and Esme seemed determined to give Edward advice, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" I asked.

"Early." Edward pointed to his parents. "They're insisting I get there before my roommates, so I can get the top bunk."

"The top bunk?" I asked. "Why would you want that?"

"Bella, Bella, Bella! How little you know about boys!" Carlisle exclaimed.

I wasn't going to confirm or deny his statement. Carlisle and Esme may possibly be the world's most easy going people, and they may have more or less adopted me as their own, but I was still sleeping with their son.

"If he has the top bunk, he's safe," Esme explained. "You know, if his roommates are hard partiers. They can come in and pass out, yes. But if they puke, piss, or shit themselves, the odds of them doing it in his bed with him in it are slim to none."

I turned to Edward, dumbfounded. "Did you think of this?"

"No, I did," Esme said. "Oh come on, Bella, don't look so surprised. I know how it is. Surely you had a few crazy roommate incidents of your own."

"Well, I didn't, no. At least there was nothing like that. Our freshman year though, Alice lived with a furry."

Esme laughed hysterically; Carlisle and Edward looked confused.

"What the hell is a furry?" Carlisle asked.

As Esme explained, I turned to Edward.

"Thus far, your advice for settling into school from your intellectual parents has included how to select the bed least likely to be defiled by other people's excrement. Have I missed any other gems of wisdom?"

"Carlisle's take on drugs," Esme interjected, rolling her eyes.

"Don't mock it," Carlisle defended. "It's good advice."

I shook my head. "Something tells me I don't want to know about this."

"Obviously, I'd prefer if he didn't partake of them. But I did my share of experimenting in college, and I'm not a hypocrite."

I was beginning to see Carlisle more clearly. Edward was a fascinating hybrid of his parents' personalities.

"Anyway," Carlisle continued, "I told him to avoid anything that wasn't grown in the ground. And if it happens to be something you ingest rather than smoke, let someone else try it first and wait to see if they die before you have any."

"What ever happened to 'Just say no?'" I asked.

"Unrealistic," Carlisle explained.

Edward turned to me. "Have you ever–"

"No," I lied.

Unlike Carlisle, I had absolutely no issues with hypocrisy. I was a teacher. Hypocrisy was what we do best. I was not about to admit to any use of illicit substances, even if it had been a long time ago. And I sure as hell wasn't admitting to it in front of Edward's parents, regardless of the fact I had a sense that Carlisle had done much more than I had.

"I haven't either," Esme said. "My husband seems to have this attitude that everyone goes crazy in college. I have my own theory about why he feels this way, but I won't bore you with it."

I laughed. "Oh, so Carlisle went crazy in college."

"Exactly," Esme confirmed.

"Where did you go to school, Bella?" Carlisle asked.

"A tiny liberal arts college very far away."

"Well, then I can't comment. However, Princeton does have quite the scene these days. Eating clubs have changed a lot since the days of F. Scott Fitzgerald and not just because of the women. Edward will know what I mean the first time he ventures out onto the Street on a Thursday night."

"The way my father talks, you'd think there was a gene for binge drinking and passing the hash pipe," Edward muttered.

"I heard that," Carlisle interrupted. "I just think you don't fully understand because you haven't been there. Your course load is going to be somewhat intense and mentally exhausting. There's a reason for the debauchery on college campuses, you know. It's not just about being away from parents and rules for the first time in your life. At least —it won't be where you're going."

Esme looked annoyed. "Not everyone goes that route, Edward. I didn't. From the sound of it, Bella didn't."

Oh, but I did. Esme just didn't need to know that.

"And you may not, either," she continued. "But if you do, for god's sake, don't be a dumbass."

An hour later, Edward drove me home. He took a large gift bag out of the trunk before walking me to my door.

"Shit," I said. "How did you find out?"

"Find out what?"

"That my birthday was Sunday. I never mentioned it."

"Wait, did I miss your birthday?" He seemed horrified.

"No, it's this coming Sunday. So this isn't-"

He shook his head. "No. It's not a birthday gift. Just something I wanted you to have. Let's go inside and you can open it."

We went inside the house and I sat on the piano bench and reached into the bag. I pulled out a second bag, this one a very distinctive shade of blue.

"You'd better not have."

"I didn't. At least, not what you're thinking."

I reached inside the bag and pulled out a flat, rectangular box. Its size was reassuring. I lifted its lid and exhaled when I saw the contents. A simple sterling silver frame held a black and white photograph of Edward and me on the beach from the photo shoot with the Cullen family photographer. In the picture, he was looking down at me with complete adoration. It was impossible for me to doubt how much he loved me while looking at this photo. I was sure his selection of this particular shot was deliberate.

"I love it; thank you."

"Now that you are holding the finished product, was posing for these really all that bad?"

"Yes, but the end result was worth it. I'm going to miss you so much."

He dropped to his knees in front of the piano bench and wrapped his arms around me, pressing his face into my chest. I placed the box on the floor next to me and put my hands in his hair.

"You know this is the beginning, right?"

"For you," I qualified.

"For us." He lifted the hem of my shirt and kissed my stomach. "Now, why don't you come down here and show me just how much you're going to miss me."

He moved his hands under my skirt and tugged at my underwear. I lifted my bottom off the bench and stepped out of my panties before falling into Edward on the floor. After some quick fumbling with his pants, I wrapped my legs around him and brought him inside me. He cupped my ass under my skirt and shifted me up and down as he moved. He wasn't gentle, and it wasn't about love. We were possessed of a sudden mutual need to be as close to one another as was physically possible.

Afterward we sprawled out on our backs on the floor, disheveled though still fully clothed, staring at the plaster ceiling.

"Why were you so scared?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"I saw the look in your eyes when you pulled out the bag from Tiffany's. It was pure terror."

I didn't answer.

"What specifically made you uncomfortable?" He rolled onto his stomach and looked at me.

"I don't like the idea of you spending money on me."

"I have plenty of money."

"Actually, you don't. Your parents do."

One corner of his mouth turned up. "Give me a few years. Look, I get that in many ways I'm at a point in my life where I have nothing of my own to offer you. But I do have an income of sorts. I may not be able to sign a check yet, but I have been picking up the tab so to speak."

"I know you don't have a job. You couldn't. You're with me every waking moment."

"No, I don't work per sè. I do have a trust fund which I gain control of in a few years. I've also saved every penny that has ever been given to me. The interest from it provides me with ample spending money. So although I don't have a job, I'm not running up to my dad and asking him for a few hundred dollars every time I want to take you out on a real date."

"No wonder you and Emmett get along so well. He claims he's still living off of his bar mitzvah money."

He let out a small laugh."I didn't know that."

"You know my financial independence is a huge source of pride for me."

"Oh, I know." He smiled widely. "Just another reason why you're a great catch."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Back on topic, I know you've been looking at tomorrow with great trepidation, and I understand why. Tell me something. Are you more frightened by the idea of commitment in general or the fact that I am committed to you?"

It was a valid question, which I didn't want to answer. I fumbled with the drawstring of my skirt instead.

"Bella, look at me." He put his hand on my cheek and gently turned my face towards his. "We've never talked about the future."

"Of course we haven't. You're seventeen, and we've been together less than three months."

"We both know your reaction earlier went a bit beyond discomfort with my spending money on you. It was the connotation of receiving a gift from Tiffany's. I know the intensity of what we have isn't something that comes along often. Meanwhile, I've watched you cringe every time anyone mentions my leaving for college. You've insisted we have all this dialogue about what I want and what's best for me, despite the fact that from day one I've made my desires perfectly clear. Now it's your turn. Bella, what do you want?"

I didn't answer him. I knew exactly what I wanted, but I hadn't dared to dream it was even a remote possibility.

"I want you to enjoy yourself, to go off to school tomorrow completely unencumbered. I'll be here when you get back."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm coming home this weekend."

"Are you crazy? We discussed this. You should take the first few weekends and stay on campus until you settle in."

"I'm not missing your birthday."

"For the record, I hate my birthday. Birthdays involve two things—being the center of attention and receiving gifts, neither of which I enjoy."

"Then come see me on campus."

"I can't do that."

"Why? It's easy. You shoot straight up 295 and turn right at the Gothic architecture."

"You know what I mean."

"Do I? Because it seems like you're trying to pull away from me."

I absolutely hated that he could see through me.

He sat up and fixed his clothing. "This isn't how I envisioned our last night at home together."

"Edward," I said. "I love you."

"Then trust in me. Trust in us." He took me into his arms and kissed me.

"Take me upstairs."

It was the middle of the night when I finally walked him to my door. Despite having spent the past few hours making love with a desperation I'd never before felt, I wanted a quick good-bye. I doubted I'd retain my composure if we prolonged it.

"Good night, Bella." He kissed me lightly on the lips before walking to his car. "I'll call you."

Smiling, he sped away.

In the end it was just like any other night, except I didn't know for sure when I would see him again. I did, however, finally know what I wanted. I went inside and picked up my iPhone from on top of the piano. I felt like a bit of a pussy answering his earlier question via text message, but decided it was better than evading him indefinitely.

_I want to spend the rest of my life with you._

I typed and pressed send. Fifteen minutes later, I read his response.

_You will._


	24. The Woman Who Is Driven by Passion

**chapter twenty-three**

**the woman who is driven by passion to meet her lover**

* * *

The school year began with the same components it always had—the cacophony of my alarm blaring me into consciousness at the ass crack of dawn, a shower, some coffee, and a black skirt suit with four inch heels meant to convey to my students that although I may not look that much older than their twelfth grade counterparts, I was still an authority figure.

This year, I had seniors whose last names began with the letters C through F in homeroom. As I called roll and sat them alphabetically, I found myself involuntarily looking at them much more closely than I had in previous years. Had Edward not skipped ninth grade, I would be directing him to his seat at this very moment. If these things were based solely on chronological age Edward would have been among these students in front of me, but it seemed so hard for me to believe that in the context of how I viewed him now. Despite the fact that they had already come into the statures and countenances they would exhibit as adults, the young men and women in my homeroom were more or less obviously still children despite the fact that they were exactly Edward's age. I wondered if he was truly all that different from them, or if I just chose to believe that he was as justification for my own lascivious behavior.

I couldn't allow myself to dwell on it, and instead launched into my standard first day of homeroom soliloquy.

"Good morning, everyone. You should all know the drill by now. The administration wants me to mark you late if you come in after the bell, however close is usually good enough for me, provided you don't make a habit of it. By now all this should be self-explanatory and redundant, but I'll ask anyway just in case. Does anyone have any questions for me?"

A boy in the second row raised his hand.

I consulted my seating chart. "Yes, Colin?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Lovely. And so it began.

"As far as you're concerned I am a nun. Does anyone have any questions for me that are actually relevant to school?"  
Colin's hand went up.

"Yes, Colin?"

"If you weren't a bride of Christ, would you consider dating a student?"

What the fuck?

He had to be just flirting. He couldn't actually know anything.

Thankfully, the bell rang. I was never so grateful homeroom was only fifteen minutes long.

During my prep period, my iPhone chirped. I had a text from Edward.

_I scored the top bunk._

I laughed as I sent my reply.

_See? Things are working out already._

His response was instantaneous._  
_

_Except I miss you intensely._

God, did I understand what he meant.

The rest of my day passed uneventfully. I was home about five minutes when my phone rang. Just seeing Edward's name on caller ID made me grin like an idiot.

"I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."

"I'm settled into the room. I didn't bring much so it didn't take long. If you aren't doing anything, I'd love it if you came up to see me."

"Isn't there a kegger you should be going to?"

He laughed. "Bella, most people's parents are still here. Please?"

I couldn't say no to him. "Fine, text me directions."

"I'll send them as soon we hang up. It should only take about 45 minutes to get here if you leave now, otherwise you'll hit rush hour."

"Okay, I'll head out now. I'll see you soon."

I knew I was being completely selfish by driving up to see him his first afternoon on campus, but I didn't care. After all, he did invite me. Finding the campus was very easy and I instantly recognized his dorm from his descriptions. I called him when I parked and he met me at the door with a quick kiss.

"Wow. I almost feel shafted for missing a year of high school. Is it awful that I want you to wear this outfit again for me some time? Maybe lean over my desk and give me a lecture on dangling participles?"

"Is your participle dangling, Edward?"

"Not after seeing you in that suit," he admitted. "But it could be later."

I followed him up steps and through a winding hallway. I felt more like I was inside an Escher print than in a college dormitory. Finally, we reached a door marked 3B and Edward gestured me inside. I had lived in some fairly old buildings, but this was like nothing I'd ever seen. The walls were made of plaster and there was a non-functioning fireplace tucked into the corner. The windows appeared to be the original panes of leaded glass. There were no beds and no desks, just a futon and a television.

"This is the common area," he explained. "And the bedroom is in here."

He pulled me into a very small room with a set of bunk beds, a single bed, three desks and three dressers. It was so packed there was hardly room to move.

"Why don't you spread out a bit?"

"I wanted to, but Mike and Tyler vetoed me. They said it would be better for entertaining this way."

As much I disliked the obstacle course that Edward would have to run to get into his bed each night, I will admit to being somewhat relieved there were no immediate plans to entertain in his bedroom. Edward excused himself to run to the bathroom which was apparently communal and on another floor. I sat on the futon and waited for him, checking my email on my iPhone. I looked up when I heard the door open. A blond kid walked in and began immediately sizing me up, paying particular attention to my chest and my legs, his sense of entitlement made obvious by his complete lack of discretion.

I stood up to address him. "Edward just ran out for a minute, and we'll be out of your way as soon as he gets back. I hope you don't mind me waiting in here for him. I'm Bella, by the way."

He held out his hand to me and smiled, with a level of smug sleaziness that I hadn't know it was possible for an eighteen year old to possess.

"Hello, Bella. I'm Mike Newton. I met Edward's parents earlier, but somehow must have missed you. I can't believe he didn't mention having such a hot stepmother."

What the fuck?

I stood there for about a moment dumbfounded, before Edward returned.

"Oh. Hi Mike," he said. "I see you've met my girlfriend."

Mike's eyes darted from Edward back to me in apparent disbelief.

I warily shook Mike's hand. "It's nice to meet you." I spoke to him in the same somewhat patronizing tone of voice I use when my freshmen step out of line. Although I'd had no intention of fooling around with Edward when I came up here, I felt compelled to make the strength of our relationship abundantly clear in the only way a prick like him would understand. "If you anticipate needing anything from the other room, Mike, I suggest you get it now. Edward and I will be in there for a bit, and we won't want to be interrupted."

Mike laughed, his eyes darting from me to Edward. Then I squeezed Edward's ass, and Mike realized I was serious. "Okay then. I see how it's going to be. I'll just get my laptop."

Moments later, he was out in the common room, and Edward and I were safely sequestered in the bedroom.

"I don't trust him," I whispered. "I know his type, though usually they don't get that offensive until they hit their twenties."

Edward nodded then silently moved a dresser in front of the closed door. He docked his ipod and turned on some music to at least give us the illusion of privacy. He sat on the edge of his desk.

"Come here, Ms. Swan," he said, smirking.

I walked over to him and stood between his legs. He started to unbutton my suit jacket.

"I'm guessing the idea of this was to make you look older, and in that respect it works. But I'm telling you right now, every boy you had in class today was trying to envision what was under this jacket."

He opened my jacket and took it off, exposing my black camisole. His lips moved across my shoulder before he spoke again.

"You are deluding yourself if you think any of your male students were paying attention to your lecture."

He unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor before pulling my camisole up over my head. He nudged me away from him gently and studied me, as I stood before him wearing only my black lace boy shorts and high heeled shoes.

"Not all seventeen-year-old boys are as horny as you are."

"Are you kidding? Most of them are worse." He took my nipple into his mouth.

"Edward," I moaned. "Mike may seem like a misogynistic asshat, but even still he doesn't deserve to be shut out of his room indefinitely. And you don't know when your other roommate will show up."

He sighed with his mouth still on my breast, giving me a quick lick before pulling away. "You're right. We should be more considerate."

I bent down to get my skirt, but Edward stopped me.

"Starting with the next time you visit." Edward put his hands on my hips and turned me around to face his desk before easing my underwear down to my knees. "Now tell me, Teacher." He stroked me with one hand while opening his pants with the other. "When was the last time you were fucked on a desk?"

Twenty minutes later, Edward moved the dresser back into place. Thankfully, Mike was no longer in the other room. I hoped he'd excused himself before Edward started yelling that he wanted me to put him in detention, but somehow I doubted it. We settled into the futon to talk for a bit before I went home.

"You have no idea how surreal this feels for me," I said.

"It can't feel any stranger than it does for me. I mean, I always thought I'd end up here. But to actually be here and have you, too…" He paused. "It's like when I turned seventeen I got everything I'd ever wanted."

I smiled. "You know I won't be up here all that often, right? I fully expected to feel a bit out of place, but when Mike assumed I was your stepmother–"

He started laughing hysterically. "Wait, Mike thought you were my stepmother?"

I nodded.

"That's awesome."

"No, actually it was insulting."

"You don't get it. So, every year in June at Princeton Reunions there's this thing called P-Rade where people march along with their classmates according to year of graduation. It's really just an excuse to get drunk and wear ugly jackets."

"And smart people do this willingly?"

"Are you kidding? They love it. Anyway, I've come up here with my father for it just about every year since I was born. Recently, a lot of the guys from my dad's class have shown up with their second wives. Let's just say these women are always closer to my age than my father's and they all look like models."

"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."

"It was a compliment."

"Regardless, I don't exactly blend."

"You're wearing a business suit. Had you driven up in jeans and tank top, you probably would have gotten a very different reaction from Mike. As much as it pains me to say this, you would have gotten a different reaction from me as well. I felt very emboldened by my need to have you on my desk. I thank the suit for that. It almost made me long for the time when teachers still spanked their problem students. Had I been in your class back in the day, I could have been a very big problem for you."

"I'm not your teacher, and I can totally still spank you."

He blushed. "I said 'almost.'"

As embarrassed as he seemed by his admission, I had a sense it was something we would indeed be trying out another time. We walked to my car holding hands. He opened my door for me and gave me a chaste kiss on the lips.

"See? Nothing has changed," he whispered.

I smiled and settled into the driver's seat. "I'll call you before I go to sleep."

He nodded and waved, and soon I was on the interstate heading south. Of course, one very big thing had changed, but it would be impossible for Edward to realize this.

I was no longer terrified of the next four years.


	25. Birthday

**chapter twenty-four**

**birthday**

* * *

As I readied myself for bed on Saturday, my mind wandered over the previous week. It hadn't been awful. Edward called me nightly, as he'd promised he would. He sent me several emails throughout each day. They had a conversational tone to them, and it almost felt as if he was typing what he would be telling me were I standing beside him. He didn't expect me to be able to respond immediately, nor did he want me to feel compelled to attempt it. Catching up on the events of his day when I arrived home from school was one of my favorite parts of each day, second only to his good night phone call.

I got undressed and settled myself into bed for our newly established evening ritual and soon we were chatting away. Even over the phone, Edward's voice affected me physically. Maybe if his roommates weren't around we could play a bit. I made a mental note to ask him later, while momentarily resigning myself to the topic at hand.

"Tomorrow is a big day."

"And I'd like it to be a small day," I reminded him.

"Your birthday is important, whether or not you care to acknowledge it as such. Besides, there must be something you'd like."

So we were back to this shit. We'd been talking for about twenty minutes now and the conversation kept returning to the impending doom of my birthday. At this rate, we'd never get to phone sex.

"Nothing, actually."

It was partially true. There was nothing that I cared to verbalize. I really just wanted to be with him, to touch his hair and his cock and to sleep in his arms. I just didn't want to ask him to leave his campus. My birthday fell on a Sunday this year, and his classes began the very next day.

"I find that somewhat hard to believe, but you're in luck regardless as I've decided to ignore your requests that I do nothing."

"Lovely."

"Been out on your front porch lately?" he asked.

Shit. I could just imagine what he did. With an enormous sense of dread, I climbed out of bed and threw on a robe before running down the steps to see what he meant. I opened the front door to find Edward standing there, leaning against the side of my house in jeans and a white polo shirt. He held his cell phone in one hand and a gift bow in the other. He smiled when saw me.

"Happy birthday."

"Are you my present?"

"I couldn't fit in a gift bag." He shrugged in mock apology.

I propelled myself into his arms. "I wanted you to come home," I explained between fervent kisses. "I needed to see you so badly. I just couldn't bring myself to ask you."

He laughed as his hands cupped my face. "Good thing you'll never have to," he whispered. He scooped me into his arms and carried me up the steps, gently placing me back on my feet beside my bed. I tugged his shirt up over his head before falling to my knees to work on his jeans. I opened the button and pulled down the zipper.

"'Lucky you,'" I read from the fabric inside his fly. I felt him laugh as I pulled his jeans and boxers down to the floor.  
"I'm not sure why it says that there," he said, blushing.

God, how I missed that blush.

I smiled up at him. "I am," I said before taking him into my mouth.

He groaned while awkwardly attempting to open my robe with his foot. I shrugged out of it, while somehow managing to keep my lip around him. When I was finally naked in front of him, his hands found my hair as his sounds intensified.

"Oh, god, Bella. I'm going to come." His words came through in gasps. "And I need to be inside you when I do."

He already was inside me, but I knew what he meant. I stood up, flopped onto my bed, and pulled him down on top of me. After he came,  
he rolled onto his back and held me against his chest. I propped myself up on one elbow.

"Lucky you," I repeated, smiling at him teasingly.

He laughed quietly.

"Lucky me, indeed. You're amazing. You know, my plans were to give you anything you wanted for your birthday. You've still somehow managed to make this all about me."

"I'm having a great time," I assured him.

He stared up at me in disbelief.

"I enjoy giving head."

"I can't imagine why. I mean, I'm grateful that you do, because obviously I love how it feels. But it can't be pleasant for you, me banging into your throat like that."

I laughed. "Well, no, that aspect of it isn't my favorite. But I do like the idea of taking some time to focus completely on you —on making you feel good. That I don't get any immediate physical pleasure out of it doesn't really matter. You do so much for me, Edward. And this is something I can do to reciprocate."

He thought for a bit before speaking.

"I know I'm not the first guy you've gone down on."

Far from it.

"No, you weren't," I confirmed. "But you are the only one that's mattered."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "So…"

I was finally beginning to understand his thought process, so I knew exactly what he wanted to ask.

"Why did I do it?" I finished his question for him.

He nodded.

"Power," I said. "It was usually about power."

"And that's not still part of it?"

I shook my head.

"I wouldn't mind if it were," he amended.

"Except it's not with you."

He considered that briefly before speaking again. "How does it taste?"

"Your cock?" I smiled. I loved his cock. "Like any other body part, but slightly saltier."

He shook his head.

"Oh." I laughed. "That."

"I can't imagine semen tastes good."

"You were never curious enough to taste your own?"

"No."

Interesting. I wanted to ask him why, but instead answered his question.

"It's bitter, but I typically don't taste it outside of a small amount in the very beginning. I usually have enough of your length in me that it just shoots down the back of my throat."

He looked mortified.

"You know I like the idea of swallowing, right? Mostly because it's you. I get that you were trying to spare me that earlier, but there's no need. I'll take you in as many ways as I can get you."

His green eyes brightened and his hand slid down my back to my bottom, where it settled between my cheeks. He lightly tapped my opening with his index finger.

"Would you take me in here?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Do you enjoy that?"

"Honestly? I wouldn't know. I've never done it."

"You're kidding me."

"No, Edward. You seem surprised." He actually looked like he was in shock

"I thought we'd have to go way kinkier than that before we'd be able to explore new territory together," he admitted. "I was fully expecting to have to wear a gimp suit."

The ensuing mental image was hysterical, but I remained focused on the topic at hand. "You're a smart boy. Think about it. Would you let a virtual stranger pound you in the ass?"

"No." The immediacy of his answer was beyond comical.

"I wouldn't, either. You know I've only had one other relationship, and he had no interest in trying it. So no, I've never had any back door action."

"Is anal sex really something you'd be willing to try?" he asked.

"I'd probably try anything with you, but not right now," I said, trailing my hand down his stomach to his crotch. I gave him a gentle squeeze. "I have other plans for tonight."

He sprung back to life and we happily went for round two.

And round three.

And round four.

A few hours later, we were both spent. I rested my head against his bare chest and closed my eyes.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" I answered drowsily.

"Look at the time."

I looked over at the alarm clock on my night stand. It was half past midnight.

"You're twenty-five."

I closed my eyes again. "And it feels exactly the same way as it did to be twenty-four."

"You're not at all introspective about this?" he asked.

"Should I be?"

"Isn't everyone on a milestone birthday?"

"Twenty-five is hardly a milestone," I informed him.

"It is a quarter of a century. That's significant."

"Sure it is. I think my car insurance rates go down now."

"I'm serious. It's kind of a big deal."

I leaned up and gave him a peck on the lips. "You're adorable. Truly. But no one cares about any of this shit once they turn twenty-one."

"What, so the moment you could start legally hanging around in bars you no longer felt compelled to celebrate your life?"

"Pretty much, yes." I yawned. "Look, Edward, I really don't like to make a big deal out of it. I'd prefer it to be just like any other day, with the unfortunate addition of an awkward and obligatory five minute phone call from my father and the inevitable disappointment when my mother forgets altogether."

I wasn't sure if Edward eventually relented. Seconds later I was asleep. When I opened my eyes, I saw him sitting on the edge of my bed fully dressed to go out.

"Good morning," he said, stroking my cheek. "I hated the thought of waking you, but I knew we'd be late if I let you sleep any longer."

"Late for what?" I asked nervously.

"It's a surprise."

I rolled my eyes. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. And you'll like it, I promise."

I didn't like the sound of this, but decided to humor him anyway.

"Do I have to dress up?" I asked, gesturing at his gray dress pants and crisp striped shirt. What I really wanted to do was undress him, but I knew he'd have none of it.

"As the birthday girl, you may wear whatever you'd like. But a dress would be most appropriate."

Twenty minutes later I was showered with mostly dry hair staring into the void that was my closet. I didn't really have dresses that weren't very casual or very formal. I settled on a black pencil skirt and a fitted white button down shirt. It was definitely more of a work outfit than a play outfit. I opened the top three buttons and stepped in red round-toe slingback heels. This was a bit better, though I still looked much more naughty secretary than Sunday brunch. I sighed. It would have to be good enough. Besides, Alice wouldn't be there to mock me.

Twenty minutes later we pulled into his parents' driveway.

"Edward, you should have just told me we were coming here," I said as we approached the front door. "You know I love spending time with your parents."

"Well, it's a bit more involved than that," he explained, laughing softly. He pushed open the front door and led me into the living room where there appeared to be a small gathering underway.

The first person of whom I caught a glimpse was neither Carlisle nor Esme.

It was Jasper.


	26. Birthday II

**chapter twenty-five**

**birthday (ii)**

* * *

Jasper stood beside Emmett, fumbling with his champagne flute. Before I had a chance to fully process the implications of his presence, Esme came up to me and pulled me into her embrace.

"So here's the guest of honor!"

I wanted to apologize to her for any trouble she went to and explain that I hadn't asked Edward to do all this, until I saw Carlisle over her shoulder, thoroughly enjoying a conversation with Rose. As he caught my glance and smiled at me, I remembered that neither he nor Esme were the type of people who would act solely out of perceived obligation. My apology died in my throat.

I kissed Esme's cheek and spoke quietly into her ear. "Thank you."

"Really, it's nothing. Besides, we wanted to do this for you. Happy birthday, darling." She squeezed my hands before reaching up and brushing her fingers through the front of Edward's hair. "I miss you already, you know. Both of you. We'll catch up later, but right now I should see how close we are to sitting down for brunch. Excuse me."

She hurried off, giving me a chance to survey the room. Alice was nowhere to be seen. I slowly exhaled, as Edward whispered in my ear.

"Who is the blond guy with Emmett?"

I chuckled. Leave it to Edward to be coy about his own orchestration. Before I could come up with a clever retort, Jasper approached us. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him until he was right in front of me. I jumped into his arms.

"Happy birthday," Jasper spoke into my shoulder while hugging me tightly.

"I never expected to see you here." I blinked back tears, before turning to Edward. "How did you even know to invite him?"

"I didn't," Edward said dryly. His eyes narrowed and his arms crossed, as if he somehow found Jasper's presence threatening.

"Actually, Emmett mentioned it to me in passing and I kind of invited myself," Jasper explained before addressing Edward directly. "I hope you don't mind."

Edward responded with a small shrug that did nothing to soften his defensive posture.

"Does Alice know you're here?" I asked.

Jasper let out a long sigh before answering. "No."

"Well, she's nothing if not consistent," I muttered bitterly.

"It's not like that, Bella."

"How exactly is it, then?" I asked. "Because as you know, I'm not exactly in Alice's good graces right now."

"Even if I were willing to speak for Alice, this is neither the time nor the place. Besides, this is the first birthday party you've had in all the years I've known you. I would never ruin it for you by rehashing old news that doesn't matter."

"I assure you, Jasper, as far as my falling out with Alice is concerned, the 'old news' as you put it, does indeed still matter."

"Maybe," he replied, "but not in the way that you think it does. Anyway, I'm not here to discuss your falling out, nor am I here to plead Alice's case."

"Why exactly are you here?" I'd never heard Edward sound so cold.

Jasper either didn't notice Edward's frigid demeanor, or he chose not to acknowledge it.

"You must be Edward. I'm Jasper Whitlock." He held out his hand to Edward. "I did Bella, I mean, I did undergrad with Bella. Now I'm at Penn with Emmett. It's great to meet you finally."

"Edward Cullen," he said, tentatively shaking Jasper's hand.

I had to give Jasper a lot of credit. The Whitlock charm was out in full effect. Too bad Edward was completely unimpressed by it.

"Jasper is Alice's fiancè," I explained.

"Excuse me," Esme spoke from the doorway. "Would everyone please join me in the dining room? Brunch will be served shortly."

Jasper gave my hand a quick squeeze. "We'll catch up later," he said before following Carlisle, Rose, and Emmett into the next room. I was about to join them when I felt Edward pull me gently into the foyer.

"We don't have time for a quickie," I joked.

"Did I hear Jasper correctly?" Edward's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"'I did Bella?'"

I laughed. "Is that what this is about? He misspoke. We've been close friends for seven years, which is exactly how long he's been in a committed relationship with my best friend."

"Your former best friend."

I shrugged. "I guess I haven't given up hope."

"So you're saying you were never intimate with him?"

"No, Edward. I've never had sex with Jasper."

"If there's one thing I've learned over the past few months, it's the ability to interpret the subtle nuances in your speech patterns."

"I'm not following you."

"We both know there are many equally questionable acts for which the statement you just made does not account."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Tell me what I _should_ think." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "This guy I've never met, whom you've rarely mentioned, shows up at your birthday party and seconds later you practically mount him. I don't care if he is engaged to Alice. How do you think this looks?"

"Wait, do you actually think I've fooled around with my best friend's fiancè?"

His silence confirmed that he did.

"I knew you couldn't handle knowing my number," I muttered to myself, looking away from him in exasperation.

"Bella, this has nothing to do with your sexual history."

"Oh, the hell it doesn't. "And this right here…" I gestured between the two of us. "…is why I fucking hate birthdays."

"Don't make this into something that it isn't."

I threw my hands up in the air. "I don't even know what this is, how the hell do you expect me to make it into something it's not?"

"You could have anyone. For a long time, that's exactly what you did. The actual number is irrelevant, it's the idea that sex means nothing to you and you're used to doing whatever the fuck you want. Now I'm supposed to be able to leave during the week and somehow manage not to worry how you amuse yourself in my absence?"

Though I'd always questioned his ability to remain monogamous, it never once occurred to me that he would doubt mine.

"I only want you," I whispered, stopping when I noticed him looking over my shoulder. I turned to see Esme in the doorway.

"We'll be right in," Edward explained, pulling me against him. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm just not ready to share her yet." The ease with which he lied to his mother astounded me.

Esme rolled her eyes at him before disappearing back into the dining room. I continued speaking when I was sure she was out of earshot.

"Even if I had hooked up with Jazz at some point —and I assure you I have not —how would that diminish what I have with you?"

"Jazz? Even his nickname screams sex."

"Are you really that insecure about us?"

He looked away from me.

"You don't have to answer," I continued. "But I would like to know what it is going to take for you to trust me." I glanced down the hallway toward the dining room. "I'm going to sit down now. Are you joining me, or do you want to stay out here and sulk?"

Edward took my hand and led me to the dining room where we were greeted with cheers.

Edward smiled sheepishly at his parents as he pulled out my chair for me. "Sorry to monopolize the birthday girl."

Although there was nothing about his demeanor that would indicate we'd been arguing, he was still avoiding eye contact with me.

"What? Can't go an hour without fucking?" Rose's whisper brought me back to reality.

I just shrugged and smiled. Her assumption was better than the alternative.

Edward stood in front of his seat and raised his champagne flute. "I'd like to thank everyone for being here on such short notice, and my mother for pulling everything together so quickly." He smiled down at me before raising his glass. He didn't seem angry, but if I'd learned anything from this morning, it was that he was capable of putting on quite a performance.

"To Bella," he said, before sitting down and touching his glass to mine.

The meal passed uneventfully enough. The conversation never lulled, though of course with Rose and Emmett present, witty banter was abundant.

Emmett and Rose left soon after we ate, and I settled into the living room with Carlisle and Esme. Several minutes passed before Jasper and Edward joined us. Surprisingly, there appeared to be no tension between them.

I walked Jasper to the front door.

"It meant so much that you came. I can only imagine the story you had to tell Alice."

"I'm going to tell her I saw you and I met Edward. It's not like I can keep secrets from her. You know how she is…" Jasper trailed off. "She misses you."

"I miss her, too, Jazz. You know I love her to death. I'm just not sure how I can continue to be friends with someone who thinks so little of me."

"I'm not the person who needs to hear this."

"Right, Jazz, like you're not going to tell her everything I just told you."

"Word for word and then some, Bella." He kissed my cheek. "I'll see you Saturday." He opened the front door and stepped out on the porch. "Tell Edward I'll be in touch."

I closed the front door and stepped out of my heels. I bent over to pick them up but Edward beat me to it. He put his arm around my waist and squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he whispered.

"For what? Doubting me or being a jealous prick?"

"All that and more?" He offered me a half-smile and it was impossible to stay mad at him. I put my arms around his neck and pressed myself against him.

"We'll never make it, you know. Not if we constantly question the other's ability to remain faithful." I hated my words as soon as I said them, but I knew they were true.

I wanted him to tell me I was wrong, that he had no doubts, that we could do this and that my fatalism was our only obstacle. That's exactly what he'd said in the past after spats like this. As he tightened his hold on me, he exhaled but said nothing.

I'd never realized silence could be so crushing.


	27. Faith

**chapter twenty-six **

**faith**

* * *

We stood there for several moments, clinging to each other in front of the door. I felt him inhale sharply, holding his breath but still not speaking. He was obviously putting a lot of thought into what he would say next.

Too bad he hadn't done that earlier.

"I know what you're thinking."

"I doubt that."

"It can be exhausting, you know."

I had no idea what what he was talking about. "Huh?"

"You challenge me. Usually, I'm up for it, but there are times…"

I stepped away from him so I could see his face, and immediately wished I hadn't. I took him by the hand and he followed me meekly upstairs to his room, still holding my shoes behind his back. I put them on the floor before closing the door behind us.

"What?" I spoke with a tremendous sense of foreboding.

"I love you. I do. And I'm completely aware that I really fucked up today, which happens to be your birthday, and that makes it all so much worse. I'm just really feeling pressured–"

"When have I ever pressured you?"

He closed his eyes. "That's just it. I don't think you mean to."

"Is this about sex?"

"Heh. No."

"What then?" I put my hands on his hips and stared up into his eyes.

"I feel like sometimes you hold me to unrealistic standards."

"What is unrealistic about asking you not to fuck around while trusting me to do the same?"

"You're over simplifying it."

"Am I?"

"Yes," he said, sighing. "Never mind. It's just been a rough week."

If nothing else, he had that right.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure it would sound very trivial to you."

I cupped his face in my hands and brushed my thumbs across his jawline.

"I doubt that. You do realize I spent the week in high school while you spent the week in college?"

He nodded.

"If anyone's experiences were trivial, they would be mine."

"You're still past the college thing."

"The last time I checked, I'd never been a biology major at Princeton."

"I'm not talking about academics. Classes haven't even started yet. Socially, I'm just not sure where I fit."

I moved his hand below my waist.

"I know exactly where you fit."

He pulled away from me. "You know what I mean. So my roommate Tyler has a girlfriend at home in North Jersey. She's still in high school. Our first day on campus he was going on about how much he was going to miss her. Two nights later he slept with someone else. He still has no intention of breaking up with his girlfriend, which I just don't understand."

I sat on the bed, sighing. "I guess dorm life never changes."

He kicked off his shoes and sprawled out next to me.

"Have you ever done anything like that?"

"We've been through this already."

"I meant before we were together."

"I've never cheated, no, though with the exception of James, I refused to commit to anyone. I didn't allow myself to feel anything more intense than lust, which was always fairly fleeting."

"I don't want to be that guy. You know—a man-whoring prick. The whole concept of infidelity disgusts me. Needs change; people become ill-suited to one another. I get that. Just end the relationship. I don't understand what would compel someone to cheat."

I stretched out next to him, propping myself up on my elbow so I could look at his face. His features were tense, and I finally understood. "The girls are all over you, aren't they?"

He didn't have to answer me; his blush said it all.

"I can't say that I blame them. You are delicious." I kissed his throat.

"If I socialize with them, even in public, I feel like I'm leading them on. If I don't, I'm a stuck-up asshole."

"It's okay to enjoy female attention. I love it when men notice me, and it doesn't at all diminish what I feel for you. Just be responsible about it."

He shrugged. "It's still shallow. None of them actually know me."

"Hypocritical much?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Why did you first approach me?"

"I was physically attracted to you."

"There you go."

"That's not the point. If you had you been a vapid skank, I wouldn't have invited you to spend the rest of the evening with me."

"These girls got into Princeton. I seriously doubt they're airheads. Edward, most women will find you attractive. It's a given. I'm not sure why you're so stressed out by this."

"It doesn't bother you?"

Oh, it did. I was feeling less secure with each passing second. I just didn't want him to know that. I didn't need Edward to be my partner in pessimism.

"Only because you seem so uncomfortable with it," I lied. "I can't say I blame them for trying. It sucks for them it won't work, but they'll give up eventually."

I put my head against his chest and squeezed his hand. We needed a new topic and my curiosity got the better of me.

"So, when you were in the other room with Jasper…"

"I knew this was coming."

"What did you talk about?"

"Civil War reenactment."

"Really?"

"No. Come on, Bella, it's pretty obvious we were talking about you and Alice. Any other conversation we could have had in front of my mother."

"She knows all about the Alice drama."

"I'm aware of that. However, she raised me better than to speak poorly of someone I'd never met. She wouldn't have appreciated what I needed to say."

"Wait, so you won't badmouth Alice to Esme, but you were willing to talk shit about her to her fiancè?"

"Context is everything. We should go back downstairs now. My parents are probably annoyed we bailed on them."

We went downstairs and spent some time with Carlisle and Esme before Edward drove me home. As always, he called from his dorm room to say good night. When my head hit the pillow, I hoped the next week would pass quickly.

Thankfully, it did. Friday night came along and my plans were to spend it at home with a cheap bottle of wine and a face mask while mentally preparing myself for Alice's wedding. I was about to settle onto my sofa for the evening when the doorbell rang. I quickly rinsed off my face and ran downstairs to find Rose on my porch in a cocktail dress.

She began singing as soon as I opened the door. "My karma has a first name. It's b-i-t-c-h."

"Okay, that is hilarious. Shouldn't you be at the rehearsal dinner?"

She gave me an evil smile. "I just came from there, and I am here to tell you I would have gladly fucked a seventeen-year-old en route if I thought it would piss Alice off enough to uninvite me."

I laughed. "And, alas, you are here instead. That can only mean one thing. What did you do? Duct tape his mouth and lock him in your trunk?"

"You know me better than that. Any guy I'd fuck would never fit in my trunk. Sadly, I _did _attend the rehearsal dinner this evening. I just left early, citing a migraine."

"Sorry. I know you can't take anything that actually helps with that."

Rose giggled. "Thanks, but I lied. I just didn't feel like being the only sober person in the room for two nights in a row." She started to sniff the air. "Speaking of booze, you smell like Two Buck Chuck meets Blue Mercury. I'm warning you right now, Bella. If you drink the whole bottle, come tomorrow morning you're going to need a whole lot more than some Mario Badescu to get rid of the blotchiness."

I stepped aside so she could enter. "How can you smell something I already washed off?" I asked in wonder.

"Bizarre pregnancy super power. Now, don't you want know whose karma of which I sing?"

"I'm guessing Alice."

"And you would be correct."

"I don't think I want to hear this."

Rose sighed. "No, you probably don't. You're not vindictive enough to get true joy of out another person's misfortune, even if they do somewhat deserve it."

I laughed. "And you are?"

"I'm a lawyer. Not only do I get off on other people's misery, I make money off it. Besides, none of this is truly awful, just amusing. First her mother's luggage was lost. You can imagine the ensuing drama. Apparently, Mama Brandon only wears couture and anything to which Alice has access simply 'will not do.' I now understand why Alice is so wrapped up in how things look and what people think."

"She's a product of her up bringing. This is hardly a revelation."

"Well, too bad none of that has rubbed off on her baby brother. Jake decided he didn't want to leave campus this weekend so he's actually skipping out on the festivities."

"He was supposed to be a groomsman. Alice must be livid."

"She seemed more hurt than anything else. Her parents are letting him get away with all this —this is where it gets really good —because they are still pissed off that Alice didn't make Jazz sign a prenuptial agreement."

"I had a suspicion that whole thing wasn't over. There was a huge blow up about this in Alice's family when she and Jazz became engaged."

"You mean when she emotionally blackmailed him into marrying her?"

I shrugged. "I see both sides of that one. Jasper had ties to Philadelphia, she didn't. She'd never really lived that far from her family. The whole thing was complicated. You've met her parents now. They may be vacuous as hell, but they're all she's ever known. She relies on them a great deal."

Rose rolled her eyes. "She's twenty-four, and they live in fly-over territory."

"Yes, but they heavily subsidize her lifestyle, and they would never be down with her moving in with Jazz if they weren't engaged."

"So daddy takes away your platinum Amex. You get a walk-up studio in University City and shop at H&M. It's not the end of the world."

"Jazz has no real income. That's part of it."

"Neither does Emmett. He gets a small stipend for teaching, but I cover the bulk of his living expenses. Though as an attorney, I completely understand why Alice's father would want her to get a prenup. Even in instances where you have two individuals of similar net worth, the lines can get blurred very easily. I also get why Alice wouldn't do it. If Em had asked me to sign one, I would have uppercut the shit out of him."

"Love your double standard."

"Pregnancy is the mother of double standards. I'm entitled. You know, I'm not unsympathetic toward Alice, but she should have made her expectations clear before she picked up and moved five hundred miles, and definitely before she got one of these." She raised her left hand, which was now adorned with something sparkly.

I caught her fingertips and looked at her ring. A small, round diamond sat on a simple platinum band.

"He gave it to me this morning," she explained. "I told him I didn't need a ring, but he insisted. Of course, I love it now that I have it."

"It's beautiful. So this is why you stopped by. Here I thought it was just to talk shit."

"Well, I had a third reason as well. I really need to pee and I didn't think I could make it all the way to my house. Do you mind?"

I gestured her up the steps. "Go right ahead."

A few minutes later, I was walking Rose back to her car.

"So no luggage and no Jake," I recapped.

"And no music at the ceremony. Apparently, the organist has the stomach flu."

"Is that everything?"

"So far, yes. But there are twenty-two hours left between now and the ceremony. Anything could happen." Rose got into her car and waved. "See you in the morning. Just think —by this time tomorrow, the insanity will be over. You'll either be able to focus on working through your issues with Alice or decide it's not worth it."

She was right. One way or another, in less than a day I'd have my life back.

I went to bed early, just wanting to get on with it.


	28. The Wedding

**chapter twenty-seven**

**the wedding**

* * *

Rose and I checked into the Four Seasons around noon, then made our way over to Alice's suite. I hadn't bothered getting a hotel room for myself. I was ten blocks and a train ride away from my house. Even if I did get rip-roaringly drunk, I could still get home safely.

And drunkenness was definitely in my future. The champagne began flowing the moment we arrived. Rose held her flute during the toast but didn't take a sip, instead swapping her full glass with my mostly empty one when no one was looking. The moment Alice was out of ear shot, I called her out on it.

"You get to eat for two, and I'm supposed to drink for two? That hardly seems fair."

"You know I can't drink, Bella."

"Why can't you just claim you're on antibiotics or something?"

"I used that one on her two weeks ago," Rose admitted. "I've also already used the 'I'm on pain medication for my boob job' excuse."

I rolled my eyes at her. "At this rate I'll be trashed before we even get to the ceremony."

"Like you've never been drunk in church."

"That's not the point, Rose."

"It's only three more weeks, then I'm out of my first trimester and Em and I will go public. I promise to take care of you and keep you well-hydrated. If you need me to hold your hair back later, I'll even do that for you."

"My hair is going to be up."

"If it's anything like the rest of you, it will fall down as soon as you've had a few."

"Are you ever not a complete bitch?"

"No," she answered immediately. "Please, Bella?" Her voice took on a little girl quality.

"Does this routine work on Emmett?"

She laughed. "I take a slightly different approach with him. I'd demonstrate, but you lack the necessary equipment."

"That's okay, Rose. I don't need a visual."

Resigned, I picked up the full glass and chugged.

"Thank you, Bella."

"You're just lucky that I can hold my booze fairly well."

Alice emerged from the bathroom.

"Is your mother joining us?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Thankfully, not for a while. She's getting a massage and coming when she's finished. It's just as well. She's in one of her moods this weekend," Alice explained.

"Is this because of Jake?"

"No. It's more about her luggage. They dropped it off this morning, so the major crisis was averted, but she claims she is extremely stressed by the ordeal and needs to decompress."

"I'm sorry, Alice."

"It's not your fault. She just is who she is," she said with a sigh.

Rose giggled. "Wait until the ceremony music comes from Em's iPhone. The society mavens will love it when you walk down the aisle to AC/DC."

"Oh my god, is that the plan?" I asked.

"No, but I almost wish it were," Alice admitted. "I'd love to see the look on my mother's face. Unfortunately, the Archdiocese of Philadelphia has all sorts of rules regarding wedding music. Even Wagner's Wedding March is a no-no. I'm very lucky that one of my guests is a classically trained pianist." She paused for a moment, as if she were choosing her next words very carefully. "I'm not sure how I let all of this get so out of hand."

"Every bride has moments where she wishes she had eloped, Alice." Rose unzipped the garment bag holding Alice's wedding gown as she spoke. "Even those who'd managed to maintain some sense of levity during the planning process."

Alice ignored Rose's obvious dig. She leaned toward me and spoke very quietly, "I wasn't talking about my wedding." She stood up and poured herself another glass of champagne. "So how is your young man, Bella?" As soon as the words left her mouth, her hand flew up to her mouth in horror. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I know he's young but I…oh fuck…" She cringed.

"Alice, I'm not ready to discuss Edward with you," I said coolly.

This was starting to get unpleasant. I looked up at Alice, nervously sipping her Veuve Clicquot. Maybe she had the right idea. I downed the contents of my glass. Though I was fully aware that champagne was meant to be sipped not gulped, I didn't let that knowledge deter me.

"Did you get the letter I sent with your dress?" she asked finally.

"Yes, Alice."

I stared down at my glass rather than look at her. How could it be empty already? I walked across the room and opened another bottle.

"You just chose not to read it." Surprisingly, there was nothing accusatory in Alice's tone of voice.

"I'm not ready for that either." I refilled my champagne flute without looking at her.

"I respect that, Bella. And I'm willing to wait…"

There was a knock at the door, and within minutes I was trapped in hair and make-up hell. Soon Mrs. Brandon arrived in a hideous dress that I was certain cost roughly my annual salary.

And so the torture began.

"Hello, Isabella, Rosalie." Mrs. Brandon always spoke through clenched lips without ever fully opening her mouth. It was amazing she could produce sound.

Rose walked over to her and handed Alice's mother a glass of champagne, no doubt thinking alcohol would improve her mood.

Alice and I knew better.

Mrs. Brandon took a sip from the glass before turning to Alice. "I don't see how your hairstyle will accommodate a veil."

"Mother, we've already discussed this. I'm not wearing one."

"I was hoping you'd changed your mind. I brought one, you know, so you'd have the option." She went to the closet and retrieved a veil, then turned to me. "What kind of bride doesn't have something on her head?"

I was just drunk enough to take the bait. "Um, your daughter?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it." She turned to Rose. "Please talk some sense into her. I know your people always wear veils."

Rose's eyes widened in disbelief. "My people?"

"Would you go to the synagogue without covering your head?"

I could see the internal struggle clearly on Rose's face. Her inner bitch was dying to escape, but it was still Alice's wedding day and the offending party Alice's mother. Ultimately, tact won.

"I'm Reformed," she muttered dryly.

"Regardless." Mrs. Brandon waved her hand dismissively, before turning to Alice's stylist. "Surely you can secure this to the back with some hair pins?" The stylist hesitated, looking to Alice for approval. "You do realize I'm the person paying you?" she continued.

Moments later, the veil was secured to Alice's hair. The photographer arrived and started snapping away. Alice posed with her mother, but her eyes remained downcast. She was broken.

I was never so happy for it to be time for mass. I stumbled out of Alice's suite into the hotel elevator, unsure if it was my heels or my slight inebriation causing me to feel so unsteady on my feet.

While we were waiting for the limousine that would take us out to the church, I took a long look at myself in a mirror in the hotel lobby. My hair was piled up on the top of my head in soft waves, showing off my bare shoulders. The smoky eye make-up played up my coloring, as did the midnight blue of my gown. Strapless and gathered, its silk hugged my curves until it spilled out into a full skirt somewhere around my knees. I couldn't believe it was me.

I knew there would be hundreds of pictures taken, and that Edward would eventually get to see how I looked tonight. Still, I wished he was here to see me like this.

Alice was very reserved as we waited in the vestibule for the ceremony to begin. She'd said almost nothing since we left the hotel. Her father joined us, and Emmett arrived to escort Mrs. Brandon to her pew. Of course, Mr. Brandon assumed Alice's mood was related to pre-wedding nerves.

"You don't have to go through with this you know," he said. "Take some time, see who else is out there. Maybe you'll find someone with whom you have a bit more in common."

I silently wondered how I'd never realized the extent they disapproved of Jasper.

"Daddy, please. Just…don't. You and Mother have made your point."

"We just want you to be happy."

Emboldened by my intoxication, I walked over to Alice and her father.

"Can I borrow her for a minute? Girl stuff."

He nodded, and I lead Alice off towards Rose. I spun her around and began removing the pins from her hair.

"What are you doing?" she asked, feeling the gentle tugging.

"I'm giving you your day back." Within seconds, the veil was gone and Rose began to straighten Alice's now unadorned up-do. "Now you can look the way you envisioned and tell your mother to fuck off all with one hairstyle."

"She's going to kill me," Alice whispered.

Rose snorted. "Not in front of three hundred of her closest friends, she won't."

Alice pulled Rose and me into her arms. "I love you. Both of you."

She walked over to her father and took his arm. "I am happy, Daddy." Looking over her shoulder at Rose and me she added, "More so than I ever thought possible."

The piano music in the background changed from Pachelbel to Rachmaninoff and Alice gestured us over. "That's your cue."

Rose started down the aisle, and when she reached the front of the church I began to walk.

Though I'd always thought the obnoxiously slow pace of wedding processionals was stupid and melodramatic, at the moment I was incredibly thankful for it. If I tried to walk any faster, I was quite certain I would fall on my face.

And that is exactly what I did when I saw who was seated at the piano. It was Edward. Fuck me now. He was wearing a tuxedo.

Even if I hadn't consumed roughly a bottle and a half of Veuve Clicquot single-handedly, I'm fairly certain at that moment I would not have been able to walk. He was breathtaking. Everything below my waist turned to jelly.

He stood up and looked over at me but the music didn't stop. I angled my head around to get a better view. There sat Esme, in an emerald gown with her red hair piled high upon her head. Her hands moved over the piano keys with a grace that rivaled even Edward.

That was when I dropped my bouquet.

Rose stood me up and handed me my flowers, laughing hysterically at my gaffe. I discreetly peeked over my shoulder at Edward as Alice came down the aisle. He was shaking his head in apparent disbelief, smiling at me.

This wasn't fair. I hadn't seen him in a week. He looked like he wandered off a movie set, and I was expected to just stand here holding flowers and not go jump his bones?

Okay, so maybe stand wasn't the right word; what I was doing was closer to swaying.

Alice and Jasper exchanged vows, but the end seemed nowhere in sight. I wondered where the confessionals were and if there was a way to discreetly entice Edward into joining me in one. Oh my holy Jesus. I did not just imagine having drunk sex with my seventeen-year-old boyfriend in a church during mass.

Oh, yes, I did. I was so going to hell.


	29. Allegory of Love Triumphant

**chapter twenty-eight**

**allegory of love triumphant**

* * *

By the time the ceremony ended, I had sobered up a bit. I probably could have made it to the back of the church on my own, but it wasn't necessary. Emmett held me in one arm and Rose in the other, chuckling as we made our way outside.

"Even I've never been that drunk at a wedding ceremony," he teased.

"I'm not that drunk. I'm buzzed and in shock. Meanwhile, your fiancèe has me drinking for two."

His laughter intensified and his arm squeezed my waist. "Way to go, baby," he said to Rose before looking down at me again. "Has Edward ever seen you drunk?"

I shook my head.

"This should be good," he muttered.

As soon as we were outside of the church, I hugged Jasper and Alice.

"Thank you." I took a step back and looked over at Jasper. "I'm so grateful you invited Edward."

Before he could respond, Edward came up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against his chest.

"Actually, Alice invited me," Edward explained.

Huh?

Alice squeezed my hand. "We'll talk on the way to the Art Museum. Edward, would you like to join us? There's plenty of room, and it would mean a lot to me."

"I'd love to," he replied. "Thank you, Alice."

I let the others start down the cobblestone path to the waiting limousines. I turned to face Edward, slipping my hand underneath his jacket. I pressed myself against him and palmed his ass.

"How much have you had to drink?" he whispered against my neck.

"A little…okay maybe a lot. I'm just buzzed. Really."

"We should get in the car and get you some water."

"I don't need water, Edward. I'm plenty wet already."

His blush sealed the deal.

"Please fuck me," I whispered, trailing my hands around to the front of his pants.

He moved my hands away from his crotch. "Later."

"Why not now?"

"We're in broad daylight outside a church, with roughly three hundred people about to burst through those doors and surround us. Have you lost your mind?"

"It's you in that tux. I need to see what's underneath it."

"That makes no sense. Besides, you've already seen it."

I licked my lips. "Exactly. You're divine. We may be outside the church, but I bet I know where we could find god."

He laughed. "I'll make a deal with you. After the reception, you can spend all night on your knees. But right now we need to get in the car."

Sulking, I walked with Edward to the waiting limousine. The reception ended over five hours from now. I was going to die from sexual frustration.

As soon as were settled inside, I turned to Alice. "I know the Water Works is beautiful and all, but why the fuck couldn't you get married in a hotel like a normal person?"

Alice extended her hand to Edward, ignoring me.

"It's nice to finally meet you. I've been hearing about you for years. Even if you hadn't come to find Bella just now, I would have known you immediately. You have your mother's eyes."

Blushing slightly, he tentatively shook her hand.

"I'm so confused," I muttered. "When did you invite Edward?"

"Esme and her plus two were always on my guest list, Bella. Though I didn't realize that Esme's Edward and your Edward were one and the same until after we had our falling out." She looked at Edward. "The different last names threw me. Anyway, after you left Neiman's that night, Esme came to see me at work and told me that her son was the seventeen-year-old you were dating. She then spent the next hour explaining to me exactly why she supports your relationship. She loves you as if you were her own daughter."

I should have known Esme would want to fix things. She and Edward were so much alike.

"So the next day at my house…" I began.

"I was there to apologize. I said some awful things. It was just hard for me to grasp…" She looked at Edward. "I didn't know it was you. I like to think that if I did, I wouldn't have reacted that way. Anyway, Bella, I drove to your house to let you know that I trusted your judgment and supported you completely, in this and in everything. When you wouldn't listen to me, I wrote it in a letter. I didn't know until this afternoon you never read it. I was under the impression that you knew how sorry I was, how much I regretted everything I said and that it didn't make a difference. I would have stalked you until you listened to me had I known you still thought I was disgusted with you.

"Edward, I wish I could make you understand. Bella and I have been through a lot together. She wasn't always…"

She stopped speaking and looked over at me, continuing only after I nodded my permission.

"She didn't always think through these things. My fear was that she was acting entirely on impulse."

"In all fairness, that's valid," I admitted.

"I know I went about voicing it entirely the wrong way. I could make excuses for myself but there are none." She looked up at Edward. "I have a brother around your age, maybe a year older. He's also in his first year of college. And he's…well, he's not like you."

"I'm sorry I refused to play for you, Alice. I'm extremely protective of Bella, and the past few weeks have been rough for her. If we'd had this conversation before you lost your organist, I would have said yes."

I turned to Edward. "She asked you to play today and you declined?"

"Not exactly," Alice explained. "Yesterday was a complete nightmare. I couldn't handle a confrontation with Edward on top of everything else. So I asked Esme if she would call him on my behalf."

He laughed, shaking his head. "My poor mother. She really likes you, Alice. When you asked if I would play, she was more than a little pissed off at me for saying no. She said I was being a stubborn prick and she raised me better than to hold grudges. She insisted you were contrite, and said that if I was going to be an uncooperative asshole, she'd play the music herself."

Jasper looked at Edward in disbelief. "In a single phone conversation, your mom called you both a prick and an asshole?"

Edward shrugged. "She calls it like she sees it. You should have heard what she said after she found out how I treated you Sunday. Yesterday was nothing in comparison. Anyway, even though she claimed she wasn't nervous, I was on her behalf. She hadn't played for an audience in over a decade. I insisted on sitting next to her to turn pages for her, even though she is competent enough that it wasn't necessary."

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" I asked.

"I wanted to surprise you. Though honestly, had I known you would have fallen down the aisle when you saw me, I would have given you some advance warning. I have to admit, though, it was hilarious."

Emmett opened a bottle of champagne and started pouring, passing flutes around until each person held one except me.

"I think you've had enough, Bella," he warned.

"I'm actually starting to sober up a bit. Yes, I drank a bottle and a half of Veuve, but over a seven-hour time frame. Another glass would just be buzz maintenance. I would have tripped even if I had been sober. I mean, do you not see this man?" I squeezed Edward's knee. "Nothing could have prepared me for how he looks."

Alice was giddy. "You like the tux? I picked it out. It was kind of hard to do without having met him, but Esme brought me pictures."

I gestured to Emmett to pour me a glass.

Jasper stopped him. "Seriously, Bella. If I weren't elated that you're speaking to Alice again, I'd be more than a little pissed off you were shit-faced before we even got to the church"

"That's partially my fault," Rose said, passing her champagne flute over to me. "This afternoon at the hotel, drinks were poured for all of us, and I asked Bella to drink mine as well. I didn't want you to know that I'm ten weeks pregnant…"

Alice shot out of her seat and hugged Emmett and Rose. "You'll ruin your dress, Alice."

"I'm so happy for you. Why didn't you tell me?"

"We're waiting until the end of the first trimester before we go public with it," Emmett explained. "We want this so much and are afraid to jinx it."

Alice put her hand on Rose's flat stomach.

"You're not going to be able to feel anything yet," Rose said, laughing.

"It doesn't matter, I know he's in there," Alice cooed. She pulled herself back up into her seat and snuggled up to her new husband.

"A toast." Emmett raised his champagne flute and looked at Edward. "To turning the page."

Moments later, the car pulled up in front of the Art Museum steps.

"Does the Art Museum have any significance for you two?" Edward asked Alice once we were out of the limo.

"No. I just thought it would be fun to pose for pictures here. Lots of couples do it. It just seems so Philadelphia, at least to an outsider. Why do you ask?"

"This is where I met Bella."

"That settles it." Alice plucked a single bloom out of her bouquet before handing the rest over to me. She somehow managed to secure the flower to Edward's lapel with a spare hairpin. "You just became an honorary groomsman. Have you ever been in a wedding party?"

Edward shook his head.

"Welcome to ours," Jazz said. He pointed to Emmett. "Just remember, no matter what that ass clown over there says, you are under no obligation to meet him shot for shot."

"Should I be scared?" Edward asked me.

"I had two intense fears when we started dating," I explained. "One was that my friends would never accept you."

"What was the other one?"

"That they would."

The photographer arrived and took all of the traditional wedding party poses before taking pictures of Jasper and Alice by themselves.

We stood off to side and watched the happy couple celebrate their love in the place where ours began.


	30. Promenade

**chapter twenty-nine**

**promenade**

* * *

Walking into the reception on Edward's arm was surreal, though not for the reason I would have thought. It wasn't my drunkenness nor was it the striking beauty of the setting. It wasn't even that despite being a twenty-five-year-old college-educated homeowner, now that my two best friends were married there was no longer any denying we had become adults. The night wasn't about Edward and me, yet I still felt that Jasper and Alice weren't the only couple who'd made it official.

After we were announced, no one but my friends and his parents acknowledged our presence. We faded into the crowd as any other couple, consumed by the romance around us. Alice and Jasper had their first dance before dinner was served, after which the four of us joined them on the dance floor. As the band played the opening of _Fly Me to the Moon_, Edward pulled me into his arms.

As if sensing my trepidation, he whispered into my ear. "This is a fox trot. It's really just walking in time to the music, but because of your dress no one will know if you're actually doing the steps. Just move with me."

The alcohol relaxed me enough so that I didn't second-guess myself. Edward led, and I melted into him. When the song ended, Edward took Jake's empty seat at the head table at Alice's request. He fit in with our group so easily.

"Is this what you meant when you said Alice was high-maintenance?" Edward gestured to Jasper, who was busy cutting Alice's meat.

Alice laughed. "No, I usually cut my own food. I was afraid of getting the wine reduction on my dress. I know you're at school right now, but you should come out with us some weekend when you're home. We usually hang out at McGillin's."

"Thank you for the invitation, Alice, but I don't have a fake ID."

I downed another glass of wine. Sadly, nothing was ever easy.

"I'm sorry; I wasn't thinking."

When _did_ Alice think?

"Actually," Emmett began, leaning across the table. "They don't card early in the evening."

"I was craving their nachos last week," Rose explained. "So we popped in late Saturday afternoon. No bouncer."

"I'd prefer if we shifted the weekend ritual to earlier in the day anyway. I wouldn't want Rose packed in there with all the drunks in her condition." Em winked at me discreetly.

I knew this had more to do with wanting to include Edward than it did Rose's pregnancy. Rose rarely joined us at the bar; her work schedule prohibited it. As Emmett continued to go out of his way to make Edward feel comfortable, it became harder for me to believe I'd ever thought he was shallow.

After dinner, as the other guests began to dance and mingle, we joined Edward's parents at the bar. I hugged Esme tightly.

"She's drunk, Dad." I heard Edward's voice from somewhere behind me.

Carlisle laughed. "I got that vibe at the ceremony."

"I love you," I muttered into Esme's shoulder.

"I love you, too, Bella," Esme said, laughing. "Is there an actual reason for your declaration or do you love everyone right now?"

"No, just you." I turned around and gestured to Edward. "And him. And I guess you, too, Carlisle. And my friends–"

"We get the point," Carlisle said, laughing.

The orchestra began to play _Moon River_, and Edward turned to his father.

"Would you keep an eye on Bella for me?"

Carlisle nodded, and Edward extended his arm to Esme.

"May I?" he asked.

Esme threaded her arm through her son's, and they walked to the dance floor.

They moved with unspeakable grace. I took a step forward to get a better view and stumbled slightly. Carlisle caught me, keeping his arm around me even after I'd found my footing, as if he didn't trust me not to fall down. He turned to the bartender and asked for a glass of water, which he handed to me. I held it in one hand and placed the other on his shoulder to steady myself.

I angled my head toward Edward and Esme. "Can you do that?"

"Not as well as they do. They took lessons for years. It was something they could do together while I was at the hospital."

"The one time I waltzed with Edward, we didn't look like that."

"Ah, the high school graduation party."

"He told you?"

"Yes. To say that he enjoyed your attention that evening would be an understatement."

"That surprises me…that you know about that."

"Surely he's told you how close we are."

"Yes. He claims you're his best friend, that he tells you everything. I just have a hard time believing him."

"Well, you should believe him. He's telling the truth."

"He actually does tell you everything?" I asked. "As in_everything_ everything?"

"Yes."

"Fuck."

Carlisle laughed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just surprised."

"By the fact Edward talks to me about you?"

"How does that work?" I asked. "I mean, you're his parent."

"I know you don't speak to your mother, but haven't you ever confided in your father?"

I shook my head.

"Oh."

"In all fairness to him, he might have listened. I just never tried. I think I reminded him of my mother a bit too much. Besides, he carries a gun. It's more than a little intimidating."

He squeezed me gently, as if he understood.

"Edward didn't have any peers with whom he connected Esme and I always encouraged him to talk to us about anything that was on his mind. Obviously, when he became a teenager there were certain topics which he was more comfortable discussing with me than with his mother. I became his friend and confidante primarily, while Esme continued to function solely as his parent. It hasn't always been an ideal solution, but it worked for us. Case in point"when Edward first brought you home to meet us. Obviously, I knew all the details and I'd told him he needed to tell his mother beforehand. He chose not to do so. Esme felt so betrayed by me, even though she later acknowledged it wasn't my place to tell her things Edward had told me in confidence. I like to think that we just moved into the sort of relationship an adult child would have with his father a bit sooner than most. It's still parental, but I don't hover. When he wants to talk, I'm there for him. I offer advice only if he asks. When I do, I usually offer two sets of it—what I would tell him as his father and what I would tell him as his friend."

"They differ?"

"Vastly." He smiled. "Especially when it comes to you."

"It's not weird for you to hear…well…that?" My alcohol consumption had not at all affected my ability to speak articulately.

"No. I'm thankful he feels he can come to me."

"Huh." Nor had it diminished my vocabulary.

"This bothers you."

"A bit." It bothered me tremendously.

"He doesn't go into detail." He laughed. "At least, not a great deal of it."

"He's…descriptive?" I was appalled.

"Not gratuitously so."

"But you know I…that we…" I couldn't even say it.

"Even if Edward hadn't told me you'd been intimate, I would have figured it out for myself when I found your panties in the Volvo."

"I think I want to die."

I stood there blushing like an imbecile while Carlisle laughed at me.

"I'm not sure why this makes you so uncomfortable. You of all people should understand that sex is one of those things that just happens."

"What do you mean 'you of all people'?"

He winked at me, taking a sip of his gimlet.

Holy father of fuck.

"He told you that about me?"

"It was relevant." He shrugged.

I temporarily suspended my horror at the extent of Carlisle's knowledge, recognizing this as a unique opportunity.

"I'm probably going to regret asking you this, but does my…um…history bother him?"

"That's something you should ask Edward."

"I have. He claims it doesn't, but his actions say differently."

"I'm not going to betray his confidence."

"As if he hasn't grilled Em about me. Turnabout is fair play."

"Your past doesn't bother him. Quite the opposite, actually."

"Huh?"

"There are two ways to look at that kind of situation." Carlisle raised his glass to his lips before continuing. "The obvious one would be to feel intimidated by it."

"Which he does," I interjected.

"He _did_. Now it's an ego boost for him."

"How is that even possible?"

Carlisle smiled. "You may have looked around quite a bit, but you chose him. Just be good to him. I don't know if you've thought about the future at all, but Edward has. Every scenario he's considered includes you."

"Are you asking me what my intentions are toward your son?" I couldn't contain my giggles.

"We'll save that conversation for sometime when you're more likely to remember it. I was letting you know what his are toward you."

Edward reappeared and Carlisle handed me over.

"I think you should get her back to the hotel, Edward. She's pretty far gone. Make sure she drinks lots of water." He looked at me, smiling. "Bella, it's always a pleasure."

At least one of us enjoyed our conversation.

Edward led me out of the ballroom. As soon as we were out of sight, he carried me.

"I can walk," I protested.

"Humor me."

He settled me into the back seat of a taxi and directed the driver to the Four Seasons.

We were two doors down from Alice's room when I realized I didn't have a key.

"This isn't going to work. I won't be able to open the door to get my things. We should go to my house and figure it out tomorrow."

Edward retrieved a key card from his pocket and opened the door directly in front of us. He scooped me up and carried me inside, setting me on my feet in the center of the room.

"Whose room is this?" I asked.

"Mine."

"Why do you have a hotel room?"

He laughed. "Let's just say you aren't the only person in this room who'd fail a field sobriety test."

He tossed his key card onto the desk, following it with his jacket. In what was quite possibly the sexiest gesture I'd ever seen, he loosened and removed his bow-tie with a single sweep of his hand.

Transfixed, I wondered if he'd be willing to strip for me.

"Oh, I see how it is." He popped his cuff links out of his shirt, plunking them onto the desk beside his tie. "You are many things, but I never would have thought you were a tease."

He pulled me against him and slowly unzipped the back of my dress. "I've never seen you look more beautiful."

I stepped out of my dress when it fell to the floor. He ran his fingers up my back and unfastened my strapless bra, replacing it with his hands. I sighed as he brushed his thumbs over the tips of my breasts.

"You have no idea what you do to me. Earlier when we were outside the church, I wanted to toss you into the back of the nearest limo and…" he stopped.

I wanted him to keep talking, to know his thoughts, his fantasies. I wanted to be everything for him.

"And what, Edward?" I opened his shirt and dropped it on the floor. "Tell me," I said, flicking my tongue over his nipple.

"I wanted to have you, and I didn't want to be gentle about it. I feel guilty about what went through my head."

"Don't."

"There was nothing loving about what I wanted to do to you."

I wrapped my legs around his waist. "I know you love me. Now please just fuck me."

I straddled him as he walked to the other side of the room before dropping me onto the bed. I wiggled out of my panties as he removed the rest of his clothing, fingering myself impatiently as I waited for him to join me. He stood beside the bed watching me, even after he was freed from the remnants of his tuxedo.

"I'm waiting," I said, stroking myself. "If you don't hurry up, I'll get myself off before you even get into bed."

He stretched out beside me and whispered in my ear. "I like that you touch yourself. I've wanted to watch you for so long now…" He grazed my earlobe with his teeth. "Make yourself come, Bella. I need to see it…"

The sight of Edward watching me intensified each sensation and it didn't take long for me to do just as he asked. My breathing had not yet slowed from my orgasm when he turned me over and entered me from behind. He gripped my hips as he pumped in and out of me, moaning, collapsing on top of me when he found his release.

Afterward, I settled myself on top of him with my head against his chest.

"I didn't know nice boys could be so…carnal."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" There was a hint of panic in his voice.

"No." I scooted slightly over to the side. "So Mr. Closet Voyeur, it's your turn."

"I'm not sure I follow you."

I placed his hand on his penis. "Don't even pretend you don't do this three times a day. Show me."

He closed his hand around his cock and begin to work himself. As exciting as it was to watch him, I couldn't let him finish. I need to feel him again too badly. As soon as he was fully erect I straddled him, taking him inside me by lowering my hips to meet his.

I leaned forward so I could kiss him and he began to move inside me. As his thrusts intensified, he placed his finger in my mouth. I sucked it briefly and his hands cupped my backside, squeezing my cheeks until I felt his finger enter me _there_.

Oh my god.

Keeping his both finger and his penis inside me, he reached with his other hand and began stroking me. My hips bucked and I moaned unintelligibly as I came. I collapsed on to his chest seconds before he found his own release.

He held me close to him and kissed my forehead. It was several minutes before we were able to speak. He reached over to the night stand and opened a bottle of water, which he handed to me.

"I hope you don't regret this in the morning.'

"You? Never."

"I was talking about your alcohol consumption," he said, laughing. "So your two best friends are married and the other two will be by the end of the month. Does it bother you at all?"

"I'm happy that they're happy."

"No, I mean that it can't be us. At least, not for a very long time."

"I've never thought of myself as the kind of person who gets married. So no, it doesn't bother me."

"Exactly what do you mean by that?"

"It's just not something I thought I would ever do. And you being the age that you are, it's sort of a non-issue."

He sighed. "You've had a lot to drink tonight, Bella, so I'm choosing to ignore the fact that you are still so dismissive of me. Now finish the rest of your water like a good girl."

As I sat up to finish what was left in the bottle, Edward chuckled.

"What?" I said.

"As sexy as I think you look right now, we should probably fix you up a bit before you fall asleep. Turn around."

I wiggled so that my back was to him and Edward began taking the pins out of my hair.

"I don't even have a brush with me. Shit. I don't have anything with me. I haven't done the walk of shame in formal wear since college. Tomorrow morning will be fun. Bet they don't see much of that here at the Four Seasons."

"In anticipation of that, I stopped by your house and picked up a few necessities. You have all the basics, including a change of clothes."

He hopped off the bed and returned with a hairbrush. Ever so gently, he began to work the tangles out of my hair.

"Thank you," I said.

"I've always wanted to do this. You know how much I love your hair." He put the brush down and kissed my neck. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm starting to sober up a bit."

He reached around me and cupped my breasts. "As much fun as I've had with you in an altered state, I think that's probably for the best. I hope you don't suffer too much when you wake up."

I turned to face him and stroked his penis, marveling at how quickly I could arouse him.

"Who said anything about sleeping?" I lay back on the bed and pulled him on top of me.

The glory of the man inside me far overwhelmed my drunkenness, and when I finally did pass out it was more from physical exhaustion than from actual intoxication.


	31. Head of a Woman

**chapter thirty**

**head of a woman**

* * *

The throbbing in my head when I woke the next morning was completely eclipsed by my extreme mortification when I remembered the events of the previous evening. The moment I began to stir, Edward presented me with a bottle of water and two Excedrin.

"These should help." He propping me up and supported my head as if I were a newborn.

I settled myself back into the pillows and pulled the sheet over my head.

"I think I'm going to die," I wailed.

Edward pulled the covers off me and settled into bed, bringing me against his chest.

"As awful as you feel, you're still much better off than I thought you would be."

"What do you know about hangovers?"

"Ha. More than you think."

I didn't have the energy to grill him. There were more pressing matters at hand.

"Last night I had a talk with your father…"

It was kind of foggy. I remembered talking to Carlisle while watching Edward and Esme dance. I truly hoped the actual conversation I recalled was a drunken hallucination.

"Yes?"

I knew this wasn't a good time, but I doubted the right moment existed to attempt to figure out exactly how much my boyfriend's father knew about my sex life.

"I wish the two of you weren't so…close."

He looked at me confusedly. "I can't think of a single context where having a good relationship with one's father is a bad thing."

I could think of one.

There was no easy way to transition into this discussion, so I just put it all out there.

"So does Emmett also know how many people with whom I've been intimate or is this something we're keeping in the family?"

"I'm not following you."

"You father said something last night that implied he thought I'd slept around. Other statements he made suggested that he knows about our sex life in explicit detail."

Edward laughed. "He doesn't."

"Well, he says you tell him everything."

"I told you the same thing the night we met. You're over-reacting."

"No, I don't think I am. He found my panties in the Volvo."

"And who left them there?"

"What was he doing going through your glove compartment? Please tell me you got them back from him."

Edward sighed. "He was looking for a pen, and of course I got them back. Think about this for a minute, Bella. Which car do you think my mother drives when I bring the lawn mower over to your house in her SUV? Do you think she walks to work? Consider yourself lucky it was sunny that day, and my father wanted to drive around with the top down. Otherwise, my mother might have found them. As far as specifics about our sex life are concerned, he knows almost nothing. I needed to discuss my intense performance anxiety with someone, and the fact that you were experienced was relevant to that conversation. He doesn't know how many partners you've had or that you dabbled with bisexuality. None of that is mine to share. He does know that you were more experienced than I, but this is hardly a revelation. You're in your mid-twenties and you're beautiful. No one expected you to be a virgin."

"He said that I 'of all people' should know that sex just happens. How was I supposed to interpret that?"

"Try face value—sex happens and that's why your underwear was in the Volvo. Don't you dare try to blame Panty-gate on me. I am at most only half responsible for them being recovered by my father as I was not the person who put them there in the first place. I'm finding your cross-examination of me somewhat offensive. Do you actually believe I have such little class that I would fuck and tell?"

"You said you told him everything and he confirmed it."

"No one tells anyone everything." He kissed the top of my head. "I don't want to argue with you, but you should be grateful I'm so close with my father. If not for him, we would never have met."

"Huh. Your wingman," I muttered dryly.

Edward sighed. "You know, I was going to let this go, but since we're airing our grievances I may as well address it. Last night you said that you couldn't see yourself ever getting married."

"I actually admitted that? Wow, that's surprising. I must have been very drunk at that point."

I did not want to have this conversation, and hoped he wouldn't see through my avoidance tactic.

"Is it true?"

Fuck.

"Yes."

He exhaled slowly.

"What?" I asked.

"You do realize this is a potential deal-breaker for me."

Huh? Was he giving me an ultimatum?

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

My head was pounding, and I was rapidly losing my patience.

"You're too young to open a checking account, and yet you're telling me our differing views regarding the institution of marriage could potentially cause you to end our relationship? Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?"

He gently pushed me off him and sat up so he could look down at me.

"What am I to you?"

After a moment, I answered, tracing circles on his chest with my finger as I spoke.

"My lover."

He pushed my hand away. "That's what I was afraid you'd say." He got out of bed. "I'm going to get in the shower. If you decide your stomach is settled enough to eat, call room service and have them bill it to me."

He walked into the bathroom and closed the door with a little more force than was warranted.

I rolled out of bed to follow him, though I wasn't sure what I was planning to do. I didn't want to lie to him, but I didn't think my honesty would garner this sort of reaction. I placed my hand on the door knob, but it wouldn't turn. I paused before knocking, deterred by the lack of any sound that would indicate he was bathing. I wondered why he'd locked me out until his barely audible sobs provided me with an answer.

I stepped away from the door.

Edward was crying, not because of something I said or did but because of who I am.

I hated myself.

What seemed like an eternity later, I heard the water start to run. I knew what I needed to say to him, I just wasn't sure I could follow through with it. Twenty minutes later the bathroom door opened. I selfishly kept my eyes averted as I spoke. This was going to be difficult enough for me. I didn't think I could say this if I knew he was watching.

"When I was a little girl, I never asked for what I wanted. Somewhere with my own twisted logic, I became convinced that if I articulated my desires I was giving up control, and that if a person knew what I needed they then had the power to intentionally withhold it as a means of manipulating me. Before I learned to read, I learned to keep my emotions to myself.

"I know that's not how you operate. You grew up with loving parents in a stable environment, whereas I was collateral damage. I don't mean to patronize you when I say I have so many fears which you cannot possibly comprehend. This is not because of your chronological age or emotional maturity. You just haven't experienced…"

I paused and he sat down next to me. I continued to speak without looking at him.

"You just haven't experienced enough to truly understand, and I wish you never do. I hope you never know abandonment, or how it feels to be completely alone. More than anything else, I hope you never become like me. I wish you could stay your version of seventeen forever, that you never lose your idealism or question yourself, though I know it's inevitable that you eventually will. I can't protect you from the disillusionment of young adulthood any more than you can erase the ways in which the past twenty-five years have shaped me.

"Regardless of your heightened level of self-awareness, you can't know if you will still feel the same way you do today several years from now. Your career aspirations, your passions, your expectations of life could all change."

He paused as if he were choosing his words carefully.

"I have no immediate plans to propose to you. I do have some grasp of reality. Do you remember what I actually said to you last night?"

"No. I don't remember much after the cab ride," I admitted.

"I asked if it bothered you that marriage was such a long way off for us."

"Oh." I sighed.

"Do you have a fear of commitment in general or a fear of committing to me? Or is this actually about fear of letting me know that you do want a commitment from me, because you think I will use this information to manipulate you?"

I squirmed in place and hoped his questions were rhetorical.

He fell to his knees in front of me and grasped my hands.

"Bella, look at me. I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm asking you to trust me."

He picked his phone up from the night stand and pushed a few buttons before he handed it to me. Its screen displayed the text message I'd sent him two weeks ago in which I told him I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

"Did you mean this?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You can type it on a phone, but you can't say it out loud?"

"I thought I just explained this to you–"

"I heard you, but I also need you to hear me. I love you and I can't envision my life without you in it. I know it's going to take a long time for you feel the same way…"

"I feel that way now," I insisted.

"Then I need to hear it. Please, Bella. It's not easy for me to be away from you."

I put my hands in his hair and leaned into him.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," I whispered.

He rested his head on my lap and closed his eyes, smiling as I stroked his cheek.

"You will."


	32. Section of a Ceiling

**chapter thirty-one**

**section of a ceiling**

* * *

Getting back into everyday life after Alice's wedding was surreal. Edward returned to school, and my days became much like they had always been, except now they were accompanied with a mind-numbing emptiness that had no end in sight. Edward was going to be at Princeton for the next four years. I knew I couldn't spend them hanging onto my phone waiting for his call as if I were a teenager, though that was exactly what I found myself doing. If Edward knew this, he'd be appalled.

I tried to remember how I filled my days before we met. I lived with Alice and she was nothing if not entertaining. Still, she had her job and Jasper. Though I was often alone, I managed to find things with which I could occupy myself. Of course, I continued to read a great deal and I had the piano but neither of these things satisfied my need for human interaction. I thought back over what my life was like last year, and found myself mortified by the amount of free time I consumed with trolling bars to get laid. When I became disinterested in the scene, I visited the Art Museum. These days, I just didn't feel I could go there without Edward, that rather than ease my loneliness it would only intensify my longing.

It didn't help that my friends were so busy. Rose and Emmett pushed their wedding back to early November because one of her cases had gone to trial and consequently, I saw very little of them. Alice made herself available to me, and even though we were finally speaking again, I hadn't completely forgiven her, and I was waiting for her to establish some long-term consistency in her support of my relationship with Edward before I would feel comfortable confiding in her. Even then, I wasn't sure we could ever go back to how things were.

By the time the leaves began to change color, Edward and I had settled into a rhythm. When his course work permitted it, he stayed with me on Friday and Saturday nights. Though he tried to complete his assignments during the week, there were times this was impossible, and he'd return to campus Saturday morning.

My moods shifted according to his presence or lack thereof, and I realized I was increasingly emotionally dependent on him. I physically ached for him in his absence and only truly felt alive when he was close enough for me to touch him. Some days I would reflect on how my life had changed in the past several months and think I'd grown tremendously. Just as frequently, I had the feeling that I'd not changed at all, that I was just as emotionally unavailable as ever and despite my love for him, Edward was merely a convenient distraction. The memory of his sobs from the hotel bathroom haunted me, and although I knew he understood why I closed myself off, I could tell that it bothered him.

He deserved so much more than what I could give him, but I was far too selfish to set him free. I wanted to open myself up to him, to become the person he believed I already was, but I had no idea how. As painful as it was for me to acknowledge, I knew I needed help.

One Thursday afternoon, suffocated by my fears, I called Esme.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, in a bit of a panic. Though I'd had her number for months, I'd never before used it.

"Yes, it's fine. I just wanted to talk. Is that alright?"

"Of course," she assured me. "I'm always here for you; I hope you realize that by now."

I drummed my fingers against the kitchen table, trying to find my nerve. Part of me was terrified that if I told her the truth, she'd think I was too damaged to be with her son, but my more rational side suspected she already knew this. It would probably be easier to discuss my issues in theory, even though I knew I needed practical advice.

"Do you think people can change?"

"Hypothetically?"

"Yes."

"Yes, I do. The circumstances have to be right, and the individual needs to want it. Why do you ask?"

"I've just been thinking a lot lately and since Edward is away…" I struggled to find the words.

Esme laughed. "As always, Edward would be an exception. He's so set in his ways for someone his age, it's comical. Carlisle and I joke that he was born fifty and that's why at seventeen he has the rigidity of a grumpy old man. Is he in one of his moods right now? Try not to let it bother you."

"Oh, no, I wasn't talking about Edward exactly. It's just now that he's away I've been alone a lot and I've had some time to think about things…" I didn't know how to articulate to Esme that I had serious issues that had nothing whatsoever to do with Edward. I exhaled in a burst of air and just put it all out there. "I don't know how to say this without making it seem like I'm throwing a pity party for myself, which is not my intention. I just think that I let some things from the past affect me more than they should and that I need to talk through it with someone."

I just couldn't verbalize it. I knew that the second I said it all out loud it would all become real.

"Okay, I'm going to email you the contact information of one my colleagues who does counseling. I think that would be a good place for you to start."

Did I really need counseling? Granted, Alice had been telling me that for years, but in those conversations, we were nothing more than pots and kettles.

"Oh, it's not that bad." I tried to convince myself. "I was just hoping to talk to you a bit about my mother."

She sighed softly. "I love you as if you were my own, but I suspect this goes well beyond what I can do for you in a non-professional capacity."

"So do I need to make an appointment?" I asked.

"No, Sweetie. That would be completely unethical."

I was crushed even though I knew she was right.

"I'll contact your associate."

"Look, I want you to know that I don't think less of you for doing this. There's very little in life we can control, Bella. You can't change the actions of others, just the extent to which you let them affect you."

The same words from anyone else would have felt patronizing, but I knew she was completely sincere.

"There's one other thing," I began nervously. "Could we keep this between us?"

"You don't want me to tell Edward."

"Yes, if you don't mind."

"If you decide to see a counselor regularly you shouldn't feel compelled to hide it from your significant other. As the mother of the young man in question, I can assure you that if you do tell Edward, he will be completely supportive. That being said, I'm assuming you called me because I'm a doctor, so all of this is a moot point. This discussion is completely confidential. Now, I should get going. I have an appointment waiting. I'll send you the information later tonight."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm very proud of you."

Her simple words made my cheeks damp.

We said good-bye and I continued to sit at the table, wondering if therapy actually helped people. I was startled when my phone rang moments later. I picked it up immediately.

"Talk to me, Edward."

Though I'd seen him four days ago, it still felt like an eternity.

"I need to see you. I hate to ask, but can you come up?" he asked.

There was no need to convince me.

"I'll leave now. See you in an hour."

I threw on jeans and a sweater and flew up the interstate. He met me at the entrance to his dorm and pulled me into his arms.

"Was this a booty call?"

"Kind of," he admitted, blushing.

He held my hand and led me to his room. Mike and some guy I assumed was Tyler were sitting in the common room drinking, which struck me as odd for dinner time on a Thursday.

"Bella!" Mike perked up when he saw me.

"Hi, Mike."

"It's been so long since you've visited I thought you'd cut our Eddie here loose."

Edward ignored him, instead addressing the guy sitting next to him.

"Tyler, this is my girlfriend, Bella."

"Nice to meet you." He smiled and stood up to shake my hand. I could tell by his eyes he was baked.

Edward lived with a smarmy prick and a stoner man-whore. Lovely.

I looked up at Edward and he led me into the bedroom, closing the door behind us. I kicked off my flats and climbed up to Edward's bed. I was amazed a man his size could fit up here. There was very little head room between the bed and the ceiling, and both of Edward's heads were sizable.

"Coming?" I smiled down at him.

"In a second." He walked over to his dresser and retrieved a small scrap of lace from his top drawer.

My missing panties. He could be such a little perv.

"I told you they were safe."

"Did you wash them?" I asked.

"Now, what do you think?" He returned them to his dresser drawer before joining me on the top bunk. "You never did teach me how to work the delicate cycle."

I snuggled into his chest, laughing.

He nudged my face up towards his and leaned into me. My lips had just brushed his when there was a knock at the door.

I decided that solitude was far preferable to cock-blocking roommates.

"Come in," Edward groaned.

"Sorry, I just needed my jacket." Mike went to the closet and retrieved his pea coat. "We're heading out to the Street later. You guys should come. Edward claims it's not his scene, but he's been known to put in an appearance from time to time."

"The Street?" I asked.

"Eating clubs," Edward explained. "Thursdays are a big party night around here. Thanks anyway, Mike, but we have our own plans."

"I'll bet you do." Mike winked at Edward and shut the door behind him.

"God, he's repulsive. Please tell me the girls around here don't fall for his shit."

"Not that I've seen." Edward lifted my sweater and traced circles around my stomach. "Of course, I'm not usually here on weekends."

"That's somewhat reassuring."

He replaced his fingers with his tongue, and I lost all coherent thought. We made quick work of our clothing, and I settled myself down onto his erection. I leaned forward, brushing my breasts against his chest. Although the skin to skin contact felt amazing, I wanted to take him inside me as deeply as possible. Needing to change angles, I quickly sat up, forgetting our space constraints. My head slammed into the ceiling, and I yelped in pain.

"Fuck," I screamed.

"I am fucking you, baby."

"No, I think I really hurt my head."

He sat up and gently ran his fingers over my scalp. "You already have a bit of a bump forming."

I had forgotten we were still joined until he carefully lifted me off him.

"Who painted Carnival Evening?" he asked.

"Rousseau. I bang the shit out of my head and you quiz me on art? What the hell?" I felt like I was going to fall over, and I put my hands on the bed to steady myself. "Fuck, I'm dizzy."

"Just breathe. On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?"

"Um, maybe a seven? Shit, now my ears are ringing, too."

"You have a concussion. I'm just trying to ascertain its severity. I know the basics, but maybe we should bring you to the emergency room."

He got down from the bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before pulling me down into his arms. He handed me a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. I put them on, and rolled the waist band so they wouldn't fall off me before sitting in his desk chair. He went out into the common room and returned holding a cold can of beer.

"This will numb it," he explained.

He had to be joking.

"As much money as the three of you have, you can't spring for some decent beer? I haven't had Natty Light since I was underage." I sighed. "I'm going to need a glass for this."

"I didn't mean for you to drink it. Hold the can against your head. I don't have ice, but this will work just as well. I'm going to call my mother."

He returned five minutes later. "Okay, you're lucid enough that a hospital visit isn't necessary as long as you don't become too disoriented. You can't drive home–"

"What? I have to stay here?"

"You can't operate a car like this, and I have an exam tomorrow. Do they give teachers sick days?"

I nodded.

"I suggest you take one. I'll drive you home after class tomorrow."

I sat there in disbelief, holding the can of cheap beer to my head. I was going to have to spend the night in Edward's dorm room with his two idiot roommates.

I actually found myself wishing I'd black out.


	33. The Gates of Hell

**chapter thirty-two**

**the gates of hell**

* * *

It was amazing what one could take for granted until it was absent. Like bathrooms. Edward's dorm did indeed have them, though they were neither private nor located anywhere near his room.

"How do you shower?" I asked in disbelief.

"The same way I always did. It's just a bit of a longer walk."

"What do you do? Wear a robe?"

"No. I just wrap a towel around my waist and make a run for it. Speaking of the bathrooms, will you be okay your own for a few minutes? I doubt Mike and Tyler will be back any time soon."

"I'll be fine."

He kissed my cheek and hurried out the door. A few minutes later, I heard a knock. Dizzy and still clutching the can of Natty Light, I walked slowly across the common room and opened the door, thinking Edward must have forgotten his key. A tall young woman stood before me.

"I must have the wrong room," she said, apologetically. "I'm looking for Edward Cullen."

"No, you have the right room. He just stepped out for a moment. If you'd like, you can come in and wait for him."

"Thank you," she said.

We sat on the futon awkwardly for about a minute before I began making small talk.

"How do you know Edward?" I asked. Something told me she was not one of the rabid skanks whom he'd described.

"I'm his lab partner," she explained. "And you?"

"I'm his girlfriend."

"I should have known. You look just like your pictures." She gave me a smile that appeared to be completely genuine. "I'm Angela. It's nice to meet you, Bella. I've heard all about you from Edward."

Edward reappeared just as I tentatively shook her hand.

Angela stood as soon as she saw him. Much to my amazement, she somehow managed not to gawk at his bare chest. "I'm really sorry to intrude. I know how precious your time is together. I just had a question about one of our assignments."

I zoned out as they discussed their course work, but I did notice that her eyes never left his face as she spoke. I managed a small smile for Angela as she left.

"She seems nice. I can't imagine her throwing herself at you."

Edward laughed. "That's because she wouldn't. She's practically engaged to her boyfriend from home. He's at Columbia. They try to see each other on weekends."

"You seem to really like her."

"I do. She's probably the best friend I've made on campus. She's really helped me find my place here."

I found myself wishing his closest college friend didn't have a vagina, but I kept this detail to myself. "I'm just surprised you never mentioned her to me. I mean, you said you were friendly with your lab partner, but you left out the part about her being female."

"Are you suggesting I intentionally mislead you?"

"Didn't you?" I asked.

"No." He took the beer can away from me and gently ran his fingers over my scalp. I winced when he grazed the bump on my head. "Where would you like to sleep?"

"Wait, there are options?"

"We could sleep on the futon out here, if you'd prefer. Of course, I'm not sure when Mike and Tyler will get in and they won't be expecting us here. It could get awkward if they aren't alone. I don't blame you for being hesitant to return to the accident scene, but my bed is probably the best bet."

"You won't let me fall out, will you?"

"I plan on holding you all night."

"Fine, then. The top bunk it is."

"I'll take you to the bathroom so you can get washed up."

I opened the closet door to get a towel, which I could not locate. I was too distracted by a piece of paraphernalia roughly the size of a preschooler.

"What the fuck is this?"

"That would be a three foot tall bong."

"I can see it's a three foot tall bong. What the hell is it doing in your closet?"

Edward shrugged. "The last time they did room inspections, Public Safety put a post-it note on it telling us we couldn't leave it in the common room anymore."

"They didn't confiscate it?"

"If they had it wouldn't be in my closet, now would it?"

"I really don't like the idea of this being here. The University may not care, but it's illegal to even have something like this in your possession."

He shrugged. "It's Tyler's. We share a closet. There's not much I can do about that."

"How often does he smoke?"

"Daily."

"Please tell me we're just talking about pot."

"Yes, with the exception of Hard Drug Tuesday, it is just weed. Well, in our room at least."

"My concussion must be causing me to hallucinate. You did not just say your roommates host something called Hard Drug Tuesday."

"I'm just happy they contain it to one day of the week."

"Do you participate?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.

"Not in Hard Drug Tuesday. I have taken an occasional bong hit when I've been incredibly stressed. I can't see myself ever doing it with regularity. I don't really see the appeal of stoner culture."

I sighed, shaking my head.

"Aren't we the little hypocrite," he said, squeezing my ass.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about. You know I don't smoke pot."

"You don't now. But I've seen your college photo albums. Despite all of your claims to the contrary, you're noticeably stoned in roughly fifty percent of the pictures, and so are Alice and Jasper."

"That was different."

He rolled his eyes. "I can't wait to hear how."

"I went to school in the middle of Amish country. There's nothing else to do out there."

"You have to realize how you sound. We both know your drug use in college went well beyond experimentation, yet you judge me for taking an occasional bong hit. Here I thought we had progressed beyond the double standards."

"It's not a double standard. I just want better for you."

"Duly noted. Now let's get you ready for bed."

He retrieved a towel for me and walked me to the ladies' room. We'd had communal bathrooms where I'd attended college, but these were a new kind of foul. I made a mental note never to come up to see Edward without bringing flip-flops and found an empty toilet stall. Moments later I heard voices.

"Could today get any better? First I get an email telling me my morning class is cancelled tomorrow and then I see Edward Cullen shirtless." Ivy League Skank Number One sighed. "Life would be perfect if he weren't so wrapped up in himself."

"According to Mike, he's not wrapped up in himself at all. Apparently, he's just devoted to his girlfriend from home."

Ah, the voice of reason. Regardless, I shall still think of her as Ivy League Skank Number Two.

"Right. Well, that will probably be over by Thanksgiving. Do you know what the deal is there? Is she still in high school?"

Ivy League Skank Number Two giggled. "You could say that. Mike says he's dating his former English teacher."

"Oh my god, Jessica, you've got to be kidding me."

"I wouldn't make something like this up. Apparently, she's twenty-five. Mike met her once. He says she's hot."

"She may be hot," Ivy League Skank Number One said, "but she's not here. Proximity is everything."

I came out of the toilet stall and began to wash my hands next to where the two girls stood. One of the girls smiled at me, the other continued talking trash. I left the bathroom and found Edward right outside the door. I knew he'd heard their entire conversation. By the time the skanks opened the bathroom door, I'd pressed my mouth to his and wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

I patted his shoulder and broke away from our kiss, feigning embarrassment. "Edward, we're not alone."

"I'm sorry. You know I can't control myself around you." He turned around and addressed the skanks I'd overheard in the bathroom, nodding as he spoke each girl's name. "Jessica, Lauren. I don't think you've met my girlfriend, Bella."

They looked shocked, but neither of them had the decency to attempt to appear remorseful. I didn't extend my hand, I just nodded towards them.

"I'd love to stay and chat," Edward began. "However, I really should get Bella in bed."

I had no doubt that his double entendre was intentional.

"Goodnight, girls." I used the most patronizing voice I could muster. "It's been…enlightening."

I could feel their glares burning into the back of my head as we walked away. Edward and I didn't speak until we were safely back in his room.

"Could you hear what they were saying from the hallway?"

He nodded. "That was actually a bit mild for Lauren."

"You seem to handle the attention well."

"Do I?" he asked.

"Edward, there's really no polite way to address being objectified like that. They'll lose interest eventually. Unless of course you break up with me over Thanksgiving."

He laughed, hugging me tightly. "Never."

We went into his bedroom and he spotted me as I climbed up into his bed. I settled against his chest with my head in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry. This wasn't how I envisioned this evening. I always want to spend the night with you in my bed, but waking you each hour to ask you inane questions was never on my agenda."

"Huh?"

"I'm not supposed to let you sleep for more than an hour at a time. My mom says you could slip into a coma."

"Oh. So why did you really need to see me tonight? It wasn't entirely about sex, was it? I mean, you were going to see me tomorrow anyway."

He sighed. "I've been feeling a bit disconnected lately."

"From me?" I was suddenly in a bit of a panic.

"Not exactly. More like I have two very separate lives."

"Do you mean you act differently here than you do at home?"

"A bit. I know I've only been up here for two months. I feel like I've already changed so much. I'm concerned that unless you start spending more time up here with me, one weekend I'll come home and you won't know me."

"You mean I won't recognize you because you've become pot-smoking man meat?"

"No. Just that I'm…different. When we met, I was completely isolated from anyone my own age. I was socially awkward and I had no friends. That's obviously changing. I feel a connection to some of my classmates, a lot of whom are like me. I'm neither the youngest, nor the smartest person here. I blend. I almost feel normal."

"I've never understood why normalcy matters to you so much."

"You wouldn't," he said. "You've never felt like a freak."

"No, I've just been mind-numbingly average."

"There's nothing average about you. I often wonder how things would be if things were reversed. If I'd met you while you were still in high school and I was eight years older than you. You probably would have stood out to me as much as you do now, though for entirely different reasons. Of course, I would have felt just as drawn to you physically."

"My father would have shot you," I joked.

"Some of the things I want to do to you, I can't say that I would blame him."

"Oh, fuck my head," I whined. "I want you to demonstrate."

"I will next weekend, when you're not in pain."

"Edward, do you really think that we'll drift apart if I don't visit you more often?"

He paused before answering. "Yes."

"My hesitancy to come up here has nothing to do with how I feel about you. I worship you. I've just done the undergraduate thing already. I loved nearly every second of it, but I have no desire to relive it. I feel kind of like a third grader trying to squeeze myself into a baby swing."

"Would you like me to look into off-campus housing next year? There's not much of it, and it's very hard to get but if that would be better for you–"

"Do you enjoy living on campus?"

"I kind of do, but not as much as I miss seeing you during the week."

"Then you should stay in the dorms. I want you to enjoy yourself; I never want to hold you back…"

I stopped talking when I heard voices.

"Hi, honey, we're home," his roommates called from the common area.

"I should go explain to the guys that you're still here. I'll be right back."

Edward hopped down from the bunk and went into the other room.

"Hopefully, you got laid and you're done being emo," Mike said, presumably to Edward.

"Yeah, about that. Bella's still here, so do you think you guys could behave yourselves for the next twelve hours?"

"Wait, she's in the bedroom? Is she naked?"

"No, she's not naked. She's also not deaf, so you may want to try to keep your voice down."

The door opened and Edward came back in, followed by his roommates. I gave them a small smile. "Thanks for letting me spend the night."

"Decide to keep Eddie on a shorter leash, huh?" Mike asked.

"Bella hit her head on the ceiling getting down from my bed and she has a slight concussion. I wouldn't let her drive home," Edward explained.

"Are you okay?" Tyler asked. He seemed genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking. I'm just a little dizzy."

Tyler opened the closet and retrieved his bong. "Do you smoke?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "Not anymore."

"Will it bother you if we do? We'll keep it in the other room."

"No, that's fine. Thank you, Tyler, for being so considerate."

He turned to Edward. "Care to partake?"

"No, thanks." He angled his head towards me as he spoke. Tyler nodded before leaving the room with Mike.

"Don't decline on my account," I said to Edward after he rejoined me in the top bunk.

"I didn't," he explained. "I have an exam tomorrow, and I need to be sharp for it."

"Oh." I stared down at his chest.

"Does it bother you that much?"

"Yes, though I know it shouldn't. I know I'm being a hypocrite. I just hate the thought of Mike and Tyler corrupting you."

"I understand." He stroked my hair gently.

"How can you?" I asked. "I'm not even sure I do."

"You feel excluded."

"I guess I do."

"I'm not saying I agree with it. I think you're being completely irrational, but I understand why you feel this way. You think that as long as you're the person corrupting me, whatever evil in which I partake is simply part of coming of age. If you're not there to supervise, you complain I'm being reckless. You both want me to experiment and fear me doing so simultaneously because you still don't feel secure in our relationship. I'm telling you right now, Bella. You need to get over that or you'll spend the next four years panicked."

I played with the trail of hair beneath his navel as I muttered into his chest. "I know."

He kissed the top of my head. "Now try to get some rest. I set the alarm on my phone for an hour from now to check on you. You'll be fine."

"You'll be so tired for your exam tomorrow," I whispered in protestation.

"Taking care of you is more important to me than my GPA."

I snuggled closer to him and shut my eyes, grateful for my place by his side even if it happened to be in a tiny bunk in a two-hundred-year-old dormitory. The wind rattled the ancient leaded glass windows, drowning out the noise from the drunks in the next room. In one hour increments, I slept contentedly.


	34. The Rose Peignor

**chapter thirty-three**

**the rose peignoir**

* * *

I received my invitation to Rose and Emmett's wedding two weeks before they were to exchange vows, but I knew it was coming. Handwritten by Emmett on Rose's personal stationery, the verbiage was straight out of Emily Post. If Alice had been correct when she justified spending hours selecting the perfect invitation of her own by insisting that it set the tone of the entire event, then it was safe to assume that Rose and Emmett's nuptials would be heartfelt and simple.

If Alice's wedding represented everything that was wrong with contemporary marriages, Rose's gave me hope that once in a while two people could get it right. Early in the afternoon on the first Sunday in November, Rosalie Ariel Hale married Emmett Samuel McCarty under falling leaves and a chuppah fashioned from autumn foliage and chrysanthemums. Having had little time to plan but not wanting to wait any longer, Emmett's parents hosted the wedding at their home in Cherry Hill. The rabbi from Emmett's schul joined Rose and Emmett for eternity in a traditional Jewish ceremony. The only thing lovelier than the weather was the bride herself, resplendent in a simple empire-waisted ivory gown.

Much to Alice's annoyance, there was no official wedding party, but I was more than happy to take my place at Edward's side among the guests. At our arrival, Edward was handed a kippah which proved to be more than a little challenging; I had to practically beat his hair down with the back of a paddle brush in the powder room to get it to remain in place. His hair seemed more red than brown in the afternoon sun, and sprung out from under it in every direction imaginable. He was, as usual, completely and utterly adorable.

As Rose walked down the aisle flanked by her parents, I'd never seen her look as happy. After breaking the glass at the conclusion of the ceremony, Emmett lifted Rose off her feet and spun her around, unable to contain his excitement that the woman of his dreams was now his wife. Their enthusiasm and joy was infectious, and I doubted there had ever been an event at which happiness and love were so palpable.

At the end of the reception, Edward and I returned to my house, determined to spend as much time alone together as we could. The moment we had closed my front door, Edward pressed his lips against mine.

"It looks like someone is more than a little affected by the romance of the afternoon."

"It was kind of hard not to be. You'd be hard-pressed to find a man as in love as Emmett is with Rose."

My eyes narrowed slightly as I peered up at him.

"Present company excluded, of course." He kissed my neck after he spoke.

"They certainly are happy together, there's no question of that, though I was a bit surprised they seemed to do everything so by the book. Neither struck me as very observant. I mean, Emmett was usually at the bar with us on Fridays."

"Yeah, after he had Shabbat with his parents."

"How do you know that?"

"He told me. We had a long talk about this at the ball game one weekend. His father actually converted to Judaism to marry his mother, because it was so important to her that she bring her children up in her faith. It was always a very big part of his life growing up."

"I didn't know that," I admitted. "It does make sense though, now that I think about it."

"Emmett is actually very religious, he just doesn't make a big show of it. He considers faith to be a very personal thing. He and I are alike that way."

The idea that Edward could be religious had never once occurred to me. I assumed he wasn't, but we'd never discussed it. I seemed like a strange time to ask him, but I was suddenly curious.

"Do you believe in god?"

He cupped my ass with his hands and kissed my ear. "I believe you're a goddess. Let me worship at your shrine."

"I'm serious. We've never talked about religion."

He sighed and released his grasp. "Yes, of course I believe in god. Don't you?"

"No. Obviously, I'm not sure but I don't think I do. I joke about going to hell all the time, but I don't actually think such a place exists. Truth be told, I'm a bit surprised that you do believe in god. I always thought your mind was more…methodical than that."

"You're right to an extent. I do consider myself a scientist. As such, I'm aware that there are things we cannot explain, and I've never understood the idea that science and faith should be mutually exclusive."

"Well, in certain instances they kind of have to be. For example, do you believe in evolution or creation?"

He brushed my hair off my shoulder. "I believe you are very highly evolved." He kissed my collar bone. "I also believe you are far too intelligent to just be here randomly, therefore I believe in both."

"Huh." For some reason, I had a hard time wrapping my mind around Edward's belief in a higher power. "Were you raised in a religion?"

"My mother is Catholic and my father is Presbyterian. It was important to her that I be brought up with the Church more so than him, so I was christened and confirmed. Had you been sober enough at Alice's wedding to stand unsupported, you might have noticed I took communion."

"I was too busy trying to figure out how I could entice you into a confessional to fuck me," I admitted.

He took a step back. "Are you serious?"

"Uh, yes."

"Do you ever think about anything besides sex? Most people at a wedding would focus on love and commitment and the joining of two souls. As the maid of honor at the wedding of your two best friends, you were actually more concerned getting laid. I'm beginning to think you may actually be hornier than I am, a feat I would never have thought possible." He shook his head, laughing. "No wonder you fear damnation. For the sake of your soul, I seriously hope you're right about religion."

"Only a patriarchal Judeo-Christian god would condemn me. A female god would have understood my turmoil. In fact, had you lived ten thousand years ago, I'm quite certain some ancient cultures would have erected stone monuments to your penis and knelt before them."

"A dildo deity! Just how I've always seen myself." He threw his arms up in mock pride.

"Speaking of Alice's wedding and the previously established divinity of your genitalia, I'm dying to get you in a tux again, though mainly so you can get yourself out of it while I watch. I'm actually extremely resentful of Rose that her wedding was not black tie. Of course, I understand that would not have been appropriate for the daytime, but if she knew how much it meant to me, I'm sure she would have reconsidered her plans."

"It must have been a banner week for female friendship. 'No, Rose, please don't feel compelled to alter your wedding plans to accommodate my perverse fantasies involving my boyfriend, which I would have remembered living out, if not for my total and complete inebriation the night Alice got married.'"

"Wait, you stripped out of your tux for me after Alice's wedding and I blacked-out?"

"More or less, yes." His slight blush told me that he had.

"Fuck my life!"

"It's not all that bad. I'll make a deal with you, if nothing comes up sooner, next year I'll bring you to an Eating Club formal at school after which I will happily perform a strip tease for you."

"Well, shit then, Edward. Why don't I just sign up to chaperone the prom this year and you can be my date. We can get a hotel room and then go down the shore for the weekend."

"I'd go if you wanted me to, but I don't think it would be a prudent career move."

I rolled my eyes. "I was being facetious."

"Is it that awful for you to spend time with me on campus?"

"It is a bit off-putting. I just feel like I don't belong there."

"I would hope that you would want to be with me, and the exact location should be immaterial."

"Of course I want to be with you. That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Then what did you mean? Have things been a little too easy lately? You can't go a month without angst therefore you feel compelled to inject it into periods of your life that may otherwise be lacking it? I love you more than I can possibly express, but you frustrate the living fuck out of me. I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Bella. Sometimes, though, I can't help but wonder if it's an emotion you are even capable of feeling any way other than fleetingly." He shrugged in frustration. "Whatever. It's not something with which I can help you."

I actually was working on it myself. I'd been to see Tanya, the therapist Esme recommended, each Wednesday since she suggested I do so. I couldn't say for sure it was helping, but it had only been three weeks. We were still in the getting to know each other phase. Rather, she was getting to know me. So far, she had said nothing about herself. She just asked me a ton of questions. I could hear her voice in my head asking me why I was intentionally sabotaging my relationship.

"I'm sorry. When the time comes, I would be happy to attend any and all collegiate functions for which you would need an escort."

"Much better." He smiled, and creases formed at corner of his mouth. "Before I forget, do you have plans for Thanksgiving?"

"I don't have plans to go anywhere, no. Usually the years Alice goes home I cook for myself and watch movies."

"Do you have any interest in spending it with us?"

I threw my arms around him. "I'd love to."

"Before you get too excited, I should warn you that it's a bigger crowd than just the three of us. My father's parents are coming down from New York. My mom refers to them as 'killer WASPs' but they're really not all that bad. I'd love for them to meet you."

"Should I be scared?"

"No. They already know of you and have seen pictures, so it's not as if they'll be surprised."

"You have told them about our age difference, right? I don't want a repeat of the night I met your mother."

"I have told them you are older than me. As far as the specific number of years is concerned, I will make sure they are aware of that, though it's not necessary. You'll understand when you meet them."

I hated it when he was cryptic. "Should I be nervous?"

"Not at all." He leaned in and kissed me. "I have two hours left before I have to head back to campus. How would you like to spend them?"

"Hmm…I could tutor you in anthropology. I have a pretty good…um…." I grasped him through his pants and squeezed. "…handle on exactly how ancient cultures would have worshiped your man parts."

"Parts, did you say? As in all of them? Plural?"

I undid his belt and opened his zipper. His breathing deepened and he closed his eyes. I reached inside his pants and cupped his balls through the opening of his boxers.

"Yes, plural." I fell to my knees, pulling his pants and underwear down with me. I nudged his cock out of the way and ran my tongue over his sack. He leaned against the wall and let out a low groan as I put my hands on his hips and took him into my mouth.

Later as we laid spent on the hardwood floor of my living room in a pile of discarded wedding clothes, Edward lazily stroked my hair as I rested my head against his chest.

"I should get going."

"I know," I muttered sadly.

"Thanksgiving Break is only twenty-two days away. We'll have five whole days together." He leaned in and kissed my forehead. "This won't be forever. Only three years and two hundred thirty-one days left of watching calendars and clocks."

"You have a tally in your head?"

He smiled. "Perpetually. I'm a musician, therefore my sense of time is precise. I have an internal metronome. Speaking of, I really should get going. I've lingered forty-seven minutes longer than I intended."

I wondered if his mind would ever cease to amaze me. He gathered his things and I threw on a t-shirt and walked him to the door, wondering if his leaving would ever get any easier. I hoped for my own emotional well-being that it would.


	35. Dinner Knives

**chapter thirty-four**

**dinner knives (six)**

* * *

Internal metronome notwithstanding, I was never quite sure if Edward did count each second of the next twenty-two days at the time passed. I just knew that eventually it did pass. The days grew shorter, the air was colder, and the trees became bare. One day a giant vacuum rumbled through the streets, loud and foreboding, unceremoniously sucking fallen leaves from their curbside mounds and effectively erasing all evidence of summer. As I watched from my porch, I wondered where it took the leaves—if they'd end up in a landfill along with arcade tokens, boardwalk prizes and other souvenirs of summer that were once loved but now forgotten.

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I found myself sitting in Tanya's office. She really was rather pretty. Her strawberry blond hair fell to her shoulders and her skin was flawless.

"You seem in good spirits this afternoon. Anything exciting planned for the holiday?"

"My boyfriend is coming home. Even though I usually see him on weekends, it never feels like enough for me."

"We haven't talked about him yet. You've just mentioned your fear that you subconsciously withhold bits of yourself, as well as your fear that you sabotage your relationship with him because of how others have treated you. But you've told me nothing about him specifically. What is his name?" she asked.

Her question caught me a little off guard. Since Esme referred me to her, I'd assumed she'd already known about my relationship with Edward.

"Edward."

"And how did you two meet?"

Huh. Apparently not.

"At the Art Museum last February."

"So you've been doing the long distance thing for a while then. Has it gotten easier for you?"

"Well, he's only been away since September, so it's actually fairly new. Although we met in February, we didn't become involved right away because he was a student where I teach. We began dating in June, after he turned seventeen and graduated from high school."

To her credit, if she thought there was anything wrong with my being involved with a seventeen year old, her face didn't betray it.

"It's not as bad as it sounds."

She still had no reaction.

"You think I'm awful," I muttered.

"Do you think you're awful?"

"Sometimes." I sighed. "Actually, I usually think I'm awful."

"For being with Edward?"

"For being me, and in turn for corrupting him."

"Is your relationship sexual?" she asked.

"Is there any other kind?" I pulled out my ponytail and put my hair into a loose bun. "Okay, that was stupid of me. I know other kinds of relationships exist. I've just never had one."

"So tell me about Edward." She flipped to a clean sheet in her legal pad.

"He's brilliant. He has this way of seeing straight through my shit, and he's never afraid to call me on it. He's innocent. I mean, obviously not sexually, at least, not anymore. I kind of took care of that." I giggled nervously.

The blank look on Tanya's face made me extremely uncomfortable. I knew how it must sound to someone who didn't know me. Shit. Who was I kidding? I knew how it sounded to me, and I knew all of the mitigating circumstances.

"You think I'm a pedophile, don't you?" I asked.

"Do you think you're a pedophile?"

"You answer questions with questions. Edward does that, too. He picked it up from his mother. It must be a mental health worker thing. "

Tanya smiled. "Probably. So do you think you're a pedophile?"

I sighed. "No. In fact, I know I'm not. I know there are women out there who are, some of whom are teachers. You see it on the news all the time. I think they get off on the idea of power, on being someone's first everything, on being in control."

"And you don't?"

"No, I don't."

She flipped back a few pages and glanced at her notes. "You'd said that in the past you enjoyed the power you felt from participating in random sexual encounters. After discussing it at great length, you decided that you liked that you could experience physical release without sacrificing emotional control, and that was your primary motivation in pursuing serial one night stands."

I nodded. "That's true."

"And you don't feel that your sexual involvement with a minor is merely an extension of this? One could argue that you're only allowing yourself to become emotionally involved with Edward because his age and inexperience allow you to retain complete control."

I laughed. "Have you ever met Edward?"

"When would I have?"

"I figured you knew already. He's Esme Masen's son."

A wave of recognition came over her face. "Yes, I have met Edward Cullen."

"Then you know him."

"I don't know him, I know of him. I have met him a few times in passing when he was with Esme."

"But you know Esme…"

"In a professional capacity, yes. I don't know her personally."

"Oh. Well, Edward is her mini me. He would never let me control him. Each and every time I have attempted to manipulate him, not only does it not work, but he calls me out on it and makes sure I realize that he'll never fall for my shit. He's far smarter than I am."

"So is it his intelligence that makes you different from other teachers who have pursued their students?"

"Edward was never my student, he simply attended the school where I taught. I interacted with him exactly twice while I was working. I'm not with him because of his age, but in spite of it."

"And taking his virginity?"

"That was just the natural progression of the relationship. I wanted to have sex with him right away. It had been a while for me and my attraction to him was intense. Plus, sex is something I can do for him. I don't have much else to offer him, really. I would have put out on the first date, but he wouldn't hear of it. Ultimately, he wanted me to be in love with him before we consummated our relationship, and I was. It was a wonderful experience because it was with him, not because it was his first time. I never found Edward's inexperience exciting. If anything, it was exhausting. I teach all day, and I relish it, I do. I love my job, but it's work. I don't like to work when I'm at home, and certainly not when I'm in bed. I just want to be thrown down and fucked. I've told you how I was in college. I was used to being with people who were the same way. In the early stages of my relationship with Edward, it was all so much work."

"You mean the sex?" she asked.

"Sexually and emotionally both. It just took a lot of effort on my part."

"Do you feel as though it's one-sided?"

"No. As much as I put into things, he puts in far more. I know that. I don't deserve him." I looked up at Tanya. Her face still betrayed none of her thoughts. "You do think I'm awful."

"No, I don't. I think it's good that you're here."

"Because I'm a depraved, sexual deviant who preys on young boys."

She let out a small giggle.

"Oh my god, there's a real person under there. I was beginning to think you were a robot."

"Do you frequently use humor as a form of avoidance?"

"Yes, though Edward would tell you my preferred method is sex." I gestured towards her left hand, which wore a rather sizable diamond on her fourth finger. "Something tells me though, that you don't swing that way. Besides, I think there are laws against that, and Edward would consider it cheating."

With that she really did laugh. "I know I seem somewhat reserved to you, but your therapy isn't about me. You need to feel comfortable enough to talk to me and know that I won't judge you. If I reacted visibly each time you confided in me, it would become harder for you to talk to me, which would defeat the purpose. We're out of time this week, but we'll pick up where we left off next Wednesday."

I thought about my sessions with Tanya as I made my pie crust later that evening. I didn't mind going, but I couldn't see where they were helping. I wondered if I had so many issues that it would take years for me to have a break through. Still, having an hour each week where I could talk about whatever I felt I needed to without burdening Edward was nice. It made it easier for me to protect him from the mess that I was inside – even if he did claim to love me anyway.

Edward picked me up for Thanksgiving dinner looking more as if he were headed to a country club than to a family dinner, and I immediately questioned my fuck me boots and pencil skirt.

"Am I okay?"

I gestured to my body and Edward pulled me against him. "You are perfect."

"I was going for young, but next to you I feel kind of slutty."

Edward laughed. "You said it, Bella, not me." He gestured to the high-neckline of my blouse. "Besides, you're all covered up."

He gave me a squeeze and I recalled that family dinner during which I first met Esme. To say it hadn't gone well was an understatement.

"Edward, I need a crash course in your grandparents."

"What would you like to know?"

"Well, for starters, why you're dressed like that." I gestured to his dark sport coat.

"My attire has nothing to do with them. It is customary to wear a jacket to dinner, Bella."

"I understand that. What I don't get is why you look like Brooks Brothers threw up on you." I touched his hair. It was heavy and held in place with product. "Nor do I comprehend what is up with the CEO hair. You know, there are entire blogs devoted to mocking how you're decked out right now."

"Am I that much of a clichè?"

"Maybe I'm being a little hard on you. It's not like you're wearing a Princeton tie or something."

"It's in the car," he admitted sheepishly. "I didn't want the seat belt to pull on it."

"You do understand that Halloween was over a month ago?"

"I do not look scary."

"Scary is too mild a word. Quite frankly, I'm terrified. Since I've never met your grandparents, nor have I ever seen you dressed like this, I can only assume the two are related. So spill it. I need all of the details on them so I can mentally prepare myself. What are their names?"

"Jack and Kitty. They will tell you to call them that."

"What do you call them?" If he addressed them formally, as Grandfather and Grandmother or something equally affected, that would speak volumes. I'd have a better idea of what kind of people they were, and could tailor my behavior accordingly. I may have come from a working class background, but I'd spent enough time around Alice's parents over the years to have cracked the code.

"I call them Jack and Kitty."

"Oh."

"Jack went to Princeton and graduated in 1962. Kitty's from the Main Line and was a debutante, a fact which embarrasses her tremendously. Both were active in the Civil Rights Movement."

"Didn't Kitty go to Princeton?"

"No. We didn't take women until 1969."

His choice of pronouns made me uncomfortable. My man was becoming The Man. I didn't like it one bit.

"Of course not. Got to keep the women folk barefoot and in the kitchen."

"Right. This is why my grandmother has a graduate degree from Penn, a live in housekeeper, and a shoe fetish. Speaking of a woman's rightful place, where's my pie?"

He tickled me lightly underneath my arms and I collapsed against him laughing.

"In the kitchen. I made it from scratch with a pumpkin picked from a local farm, just like you wanted." I playfully smacked his chest. "Are you saying that's where my rightful place is? In the kitchen next to your freshly baked pie?"

He started unbuttoning my shirt. "I'll show you where your rightful place is."

"Stop it. We'll be late. Besides, I totally can't fuck you with your hair like that."

"You're kidding. All that time in the beginning when you tried to seduce me at every turn, I could have warded you off with a little bit of Fudge?"

I couldn't contain my giggles. "Your hair product is called Fudge?"

He nodded.

"You do realize what that makes you when you pack it in your weekend bag, right?"

"No, I don't. I need a demonstration. Why don't you bend over the dining room table and show me?" He reached up my skirt and palmed my ass. "I'll pack your fudge."

"You can't." I pushed his hand away. "Not only am I out of lube, but then we'd be really late."

He sighed and began to refasten the buttons of my blouse. "You did say you'd be willing to try that and you've yet to make good on your promise."

"I am willing to try it, just not today. If it doesn't work, do you really want to have to explain to Jack and Kitty why I'm sitting funny?"

"Good point."

"Anything else I should know about your grandparents?"

"Bella, relax. They're normal people, and not all that different from my dad. They're going to love you."

I was at Edward's house for about five minutes when I realized exactly how relative the word 'normal' can be. John Carlisle Cullen III and his wife, Katherine, were nothing at all like Edward's parents, despite Edward's claims to the contrary. In fact, if Carlisle were not the spitting image of his father, I would seriously question his parentage. It turned out the man I'd come to know as Carlisle was actually John Carlisle Cullen IV. Alice and I used to joke the higher the Roman numeral was, the smaller the penis. Our methods of coming to this conclusion were not at all scientific, and I hoped for Esme's sake we were wrong.

Kitty's blond hair was pulled off her face in a chignon almost as tightly as her face had been lifted. Her make-up was flawless. They were dressed expensively but conservatively.

"Jack, Kitty." Edward nodded to each of his grandparents as he addressed them. "This is Bella."

I was mildly put out by the fact that he didn't introduce me as his girlfriend, and wondered briefly if they were aware of the nature of our relationship.

I smiled. I shook his grandfather's hand first, followed by his grandmother's. Her hand was very bony, much like the rest of her. I doubted this woman had consumed a carbohydrate since the 1960s.

"Edward tells us you're a public school teacher." Jack sipped scotch as he spoke. "We're always grateful to brave young people who are willing to work in the trenches to better our children's future."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I teach in the district where Edward attended. It's hardly a war zone. It's not like I teach in Camden."

"Is there a difference?" Jack looked genuinely perplexed. "Don't public schools have to accept all students who live within the geographic sending area?"

"More or less."

"You can't be selective. There are inherent dangers in forced inclusiveness. Look, I would never dream of belittling the economically disadvantaged, as they certainly are not without their challenges. They are equally as deserving of a quality education as we are, but even the best public schools are still a bit…rough."

In other words, the masses deserve to be educated as long as it's someone else teaching them.

"I don't see it that way."

"You wouldn't."

Thankfully, Carlisle appeared and handed his mother an empty martini glass. She pulled a plastic flask out of what appeared to be a vintage Chanel bag, poured some clear liquid from the flask into the glass, and downed it.

"Edward tells me you were active in the Civil Rights movement."

"Yes, I was. It's such a tragedy when individuals are discriminated against for things over which they have no control. I was lucky enough to meet the late Dr. King. He was such a great man."

I smiled and nodded, but chose not to point out that discriminating against one because of class was just as bad as doing so because of race.

As the conversation went on, I realized that Carlisle came from limousine liberals. It actually made a lot of sense – the money, the contradictory politics, the over-the-top preppiness, and the condescension.

"If you'll excuse me, I should go see if Esme needs help with anything."

I made my way into the kitchen where Esme was preparing a salad.

"Decide you needed to hide?" she laughed.

"Jack is an interesting guy."

"Do you think so?"

"Was your father like that, Esme?"

She shook her head. "Hell no. And my mother is nothing like Kitty."

"What a bizarre nickname."

"When Carlisle and I were newly married, he wouldn't let me drink around her. It was awful, because she's always drinking. He was paranoid I'd slip and call her Pussy."

I laughed so hard club soda came out of my nose. "Did you ever do that?"

"Not to her face," she admitted. "But wait, it gets better. Apparently, her childhood nickname was Beaver."

I smacked my hand across my mouth in disbelief.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Bella. It was because of her overbite. No matter how you look at it, Kitty is an improvement over Beaver."

I wasn't sure how long I sat there laughing. My cheeks were still flushed when I heard Edward from across the room.

"I must have missed something very funny." He sat next to me at the island.

"Why does your grandmother have a flask of pre-mixed martinis in her purse?" I asked him.

Edward laughed. "You met my grandfather. If you were married to him, wouldn't you?"

"Probably. But it's not like you don't stock Grey Goose and vermouth."

"That's the thing. She doesn't actually put vermouth in her martinis. She opens the bottle, passes it in front of the vodka and declares it 'enough.'"

"So the flask is…" I stammered in disbelief.

He smiled. "Pure vodka."

"She'll be drunk before we even sit down for dinner."

"What makes you think she's not drunk already?" Esme asked.

She hurried off to the dining room with the salad bowl as Edward stood up and put his arms around me.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For not getting into an argument about classism with my grandfather." He kissed my cheek. "He means well, you know."

Half an hour later, we were seated around the dining room table. Carlisle said grace, and then asked Kitty to begin.

She turned to me and explained. "It's a tradition we have. Every year we list one thing for which we are thankful. I'm thankful that despite the dour economy, the charities I support haven't lost much funding."

Amazingly enough, Kitty didn't slur her words.

"I'm thankful for Bella." Edward looked over at me, and there was no mistaking the emotion in his eyes for anything other than love.


	36. Sudden Rainstorm

**chapter thirty-five**

**sudden rainstorm**

* * *

As i turned out, Jack and Kitty weren't at all put off by Edward's declaration of gratitude for me. This surprised me, though I wasn't sure what I was expecting. I commented on this to Edward as we settled into my sofa to watch _It's a Wonderful Life_, which he insisted was a necessary holiday ritual.

"You have some bizarre traditions. First, I was forced to pray. Then, you made me make a statement about something for which I was thankful. Now, I'm being forced to watch Jimmy Stewart movies."

"Don't mock Jimmy Stewart; he's a Princeton alumnus."

"I should have known." I rolled my eyes.

"Everyone prays on Thanksgiving. It's kind of the purpose of the holiday. Furthermore, when it was your turn to give thanks, you said you were grateful for capless retractable Sharpies."

"They _do_ make my job easier."

He shook his head. "You missed the point."

"No, I fully understood the point of the exercise. You tell me what I was supposed to say. Did you expect me to admit to being grateful that I own a home when so many others are losing theirs? If I'd been honest, your grandfather would have thought you were slumming by dating me. Meanwhile, you more or less declared your love for me in front of your entire family, and though I truly appreciate the sentiment behind your words, I had no idea that your grandparents would be so okay with it. I was waiting for the fallout and felt like I needed to lighten the mood."

"I told you that my grandparents were accepting of our relationship when I invited you to dinner."

I sighed. "That you did, but I was expecting drama. I don't know. Maybe because it was a holiday."

"Are holidays in your family frequently rife with drama?"

I laughed bitterly. "You might say that."

"How did that work exactly? There were only two of you, right?"

"Yes, but my mother left on Thanksgiving. She said she was running out for butter and never came back. So says the legend, anyway. I don't remember it. I was six weeks old."

"That must have been so awful for your father. I can't imagine…" He pulled me against him.

"It was rough on my dad. My mother was young and flighty, but my father did love her. He never recovered emotionally from her leaving us, and he hasn't dated since. I don't think he trusts his own judgment with relationships. He had no idea she'd been so unhappy, and had a very hard time believing she'd actually left. He was sure she'd been abducted or got into an accident. My father left me with our next-door neighbor, Sue, and went out to look for her. I was six weeks old and wouldn't stop screaming. Sue said she was certain I would starve because I'd never had to feed from a bottle until that point, and I kept refusing them. She was about to bring me to the ER when I finally gave in and ate. I guess I realized a bottle from a stranger was better than nothing."

He tightened his arms around me. "That must have been terrible for you."

"It wasn't a big deal. I can't even remember it; I just know what Sue told me. Anyway, holidays never brought out the best in my dad. It amazes me to think that they aren't like that for everyone."

"Every family has the occasional drama-filled holiday. There was one Christmas when we ran out of Grey Goose…"

I couldn't contain my laughter.

"Are you mocking my pain? Kitty is not a happy camper when she's sober."

"She could have switched to something else–"

"Kitty never drinks anything else. The following year at Thanksgiving when it was her turn to say one thing for which she was thankful, she went off on a twenty-minute rant about how grateful she was that many liquor stores were now open on holidays."

"So when you expressed your gratitude for me, it was actually not the strangest Cullen holiday moment."

He laughed. "Not by a long shot. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being thankful for love. I'm incredibly lucky, and I know it. Speaking of being lucky, I wanted to run something by you before I forget. So the eating club I'll probably join next year throws a few big parties each semester. They try to bring in some pretty big name bands. Rumor has it Vampire Weekend is playing next weekend."

"That's amazing. I can't imagine going to a school that actually brings in decent rock acts. We usually had complete unknowns, and they always sucked. I would totally understand if you wanted to stay on campus for it. I'll miss you, but I'll get over it."

"Actually, I was hoping you'd come with me."

"How does that work?"

"People bring guests all the time."

"No, I mean the eating club thing. Will there be underage drinking there?"

"Of course, there will be underage drinking. It's a college campus."

"I don't mean in dorm rooms beforehand. Where I went to school, if there was a big party, the college hired staff who actually carded and issued wrist bands to those who were of age. You couldn't get served without one."

"I'm not sure what the exact protocol is, but I doubt the drinking age will be strictly enforced. It's at a club, and not being organized by the University. Why? Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?"

"As if you wouldn't put out sober." I laughed. "No, I just can't be at a party with underage drinking. If it gets busted, I could lose my teaching license. It's too risky. You go and have fun. You can tell me all about it afterward. They're one of my favorite bands. I bet they're awesome live."

He pulled away from me.

"I distinctly recall you telling me that you would be happy to escort me to any and all college functions for which I would desire an escort."

"This is different; alcohol is involved."

"There will _always_ be alcohol involved. Are you saying you won't attend any event at which there may be underage drinking?"

"I suppose it would depend on the circumstances, but I can't condone breaking the law."

"Cut the shit. This has nothing whatsoever to do with illegal activity. You've slept in my bed while Mike and Tyler did bong hits ten feet away. This has to do with us. You're still not okay with my age."

"Wait, how are you getting that from my concern about losing my job? A concern which, I might add, everyone but you would consider legitimate."

"You only spend time with me behind closed doors, even when there is no chance of running into anyone you know from school."

"That's not true. We were together at Alice's wedding. That was pretty public."

"We were, but you didn't invite me to be your escort. Alice invited me because of her relationship with my mother. I come to see you every weekend, but you've visited me exactly two times in the past three months."

I sighed. "I just don't feel comfortable on what is predominantly an under-graduate campus. I'm too old for that scene. It was fun for me while it lasted, but that part of my life is over. I'm glad you're enjoying college and finding your place. You deserve all that. I don't want to hold you back."

"You don't hold me back." He clenched his jaw with frustration.

"Then go, have fun, be seventeen. It's a wonderful time of life. Enjoy it. and when you want to come home, I'll be keeping the bed warm for you."

"I just don't see the point of doing any of that unless you're with me. How am I supposed to enjoy myself knowing you're sitting home bored?"

"I can't be with you while you break the law. I can't. Not all of us have the luxury of playing at our careers. Some of us actually need them to sustain ourselves. I _need _my job. I can't pay my mortgage without it."

"You always go back to your fear of losing your job whenever I ask you to give a little more of yourself emotionally, but it's never really been about your job. You're ashamed of me."

"I've never been ashamed of you."

I was, however, ashamed of me.

"Maybe not of who I am as an individual, but certainly of my age. I understand your fear of losing your job. That's valid. But there's more to this than that. You won't even come see me on campus when alcohol isn't involved."

I hated the anguish in his voice, and I wanted to make it better. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, that I'd go anywhere with him, that I'd make it my Facebook status and fuck the repercussions. I couldn't do that. I had too much to lose.

So did Edward. As long as we were together, he'd stay with me and continue coming home each and every weekend. He wouldn't experience college. He wouldn't experience anything but me–in all my broken, fucked up, and emotionally unstable glory. I couldn't do that to him. I loved him too much.

My voice came out of nowhere, and I didn't recognize myself as I spoke.

"You're right. I'm sorry; I thought I could get past it. I wanted to more than anything, but I just…can't. This isn't working for me."

"I'll transfer to Penn. We can live together here or in the city. It doesn't matter to me. I don't need to live on campus. I just need you."

There was the problem. He was willing to give up everything for me, and I wasn't worth it.

"Edward, no. You don't get it. It's not working, we're not working. I think it's best we have a clean break."

I stared down into my lap. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I didn't want to see his anguish, nor did I want him to see mine. He would never believe this was real if he did….

I stood up and started gathering his things. His razor, his toothbrush, his clothing—I made sure I had everything. It all fit neatly into his overnight bag, which I brought into the sitting room and placed at his feet.

"What's this?"

"It should be everything. I never kept anything of mine at your parents' home or in Princeton so there should be no need to prolong this. We won't have to see each other again."

"So this is it? Just like that?"

I couldn't look at him, but I knew he was crying. His voice broke twice as he spoke.

"Yes." I stared out the window.

"You said you loved me."

"I loved being with you, and the sex was amazing. But love?" I shrugged. "I'm not capable of love. I thought you knew that."

"You're lying."

"No. I'm not."

"Then look at me, and say it."

I couldn't do it. He stood up and grabbed my upper arms, turning me to face him. When I looked at his face, his cheeks were wet, and his eyes were red.

I did this to him, and it wasn't the first time. I'd do it again and again, unless he was free of me.

"I don't want you."

He stepped away from me, his eyes downcast. He picked up his bag and walked down the steps toward my front door. I followed him, wanting to stop him even though it would be selfish of me.

He stopped after opening the door.

"I'll always want you." His sobs caused his voice to break. "I'll never stop loving you."

The sound of the antique doorknob latching chilled me with its finality. Somehow, in two minutes, I'd managed to undo the past five months.

I heard his car pull out of my driveway and panicked; he was in no emotional state to drive. I then realized exactly what I'd done.

I'd broken him to save him.

It was both the most selfish and selfless thing I'd ever done in my pathetic excuse for a life. Edward and I were over. I'd never again hear his voice or his laugh. I'd never touch his hair or see his eyes. Like so many before him, he would cease to exist for me except in my own mind.

The realization hit me with such force that I fell to the floor in actual physical pain. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to bleed in gut-wrenching agony, something, anything, to prove I was still alive.

Nothing came.


	37. Prometheus Bound

**chapter thirty-six**

**prometheus bound (rubens)**

* * *

I don't know how long I lay there on the floor before I got up. I only know that, eventually, I did get up. I undressed and showered and got into bed. I didn't sleep; I couldn't. My sheets still smelled like him. I looked over at the clock. Three hours had passed since he left. It felt like forever. I would never make it through the rest of my life without Edward if I couldn't even make it through the first night.

The rest of my life without Edward.

I did this. I ended us. It was the right thing to do, but that didn't make it easier.

At some point during the night, Alice showed up. She didn't say anything as she crept up the steps and got into bed with me. We sat there, staring off into space, until the mourning doves began to coo.

"You should get dressed."

I looked down at myself. I hadn't realized I was naked. It also occurred to me that although Alice was here, I hadn't called her.

"Who told you?"

"Does it matter?" She walked over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt. "Put these on."

"Why? So you can drag me shopping? A new pair of shoes isn't going to make me feel better."

She sighed. "I wouldn't dream of trivializing this like that, but I'm not going to let you wallow in bed naked."

I got up and started getting dressed. "Is this where you say you told me so?"

She shook her head. "I wouldn't."

"Are you thinking it?"

She paused before speaking. "No."

I didn't want to deal with her right now, so I went down to the kitchen and made coffee. She followed me, lingering in the archway leading from the kitchen to the dining room. Her mere presence made me twitch.

"How the hell did you get in here, anyway?" I slammed the coffee can on the counter.

"You left your door unlocked. Bella, you really should be more careful. This may not be Center City, but it sure as hell isn't Wayne County, Ohio. We're not in college anymore. You have to lock your door." She paused, sighing. "What are you going to do?"

"What I've always done. Work. Cook. Exist."

"You can't avoid dealing with this forever–"

"Forever! My god, how funny! Forever." I started laughing maniacally. "For ever and ever and ever. Well, well, let's get on with it."

"Okay. I'm not sure what to do here. You're lashing out at me, which I understand and kind of deserve. You're saying you're fine, but you're quoting Sartre. I seem to be making things worse, yet I'm afraid to leave you alone."

"I'm not going to hurt myself."

"Don't you see? You already have."

"No. I did the right thing. I can handle pain. I'm used to it. Edward isn't. It's better this way. He hadn't missed out on too much yet. He can experience youth and college without me hindering him. He can fall in love again, with someone who is worthy of him, someone who is whole. You said it yourself—I was with him for all the wrong reasons."

"I did say that, and I'm sorry. It was narrow-minded and horribly wrong of me. I would give anything to take it back."

"You say that, but you distanced yourself from me. Even after your wedding, I rarely heard from you. This was the first time you've bothered to cross the Ben since you found out I was dating Edward."

"That's not true. I came to apologize the very next day. If you recall, you wouldn't let me. That wasn't the only time. There were several others. I took the train to Jersey and walked around town, trying to find the nerve to knock on your door, hoping you'd hear me out. I always wound up back on the westbound Speedline, crying like a pussy."

"And after your wedding?"

"I knew you hadn't forgiven me entirely, and I was giving you space."

"Where is all this space now? Did you not just let yourself into my house last night without an invitation?"

"I knew you needed me."

The tears finally came. I fell to the floor, wailing. She sat in front of me and pulled me into her arms.

"Shh. It's going to be okay."

"He's gone. I told him I didn't love him."

"I know."

"I lied."

"I know that, too. Why did you do it?"

"I just…love him too much to tie him down…not to me. And if he left…if he left and I didn't know it was coming, I think it would break me."

She rocked me in her lap. "It'll all be okay."

I cried in her arms until there was nothing left.

"Do you have a plan?"

"Go to work. Go to therapy. Stay busy. Get through each day."

"I didn't know you were in therapy."

"It's recent. I only started last month. I don't think it's helping–"

"It will help. You'll see. Just not right away, and not always in ways which you can see. Jazz will tell you."

"Jasper's in therapy?"

"No; I am. I've been going for about three years now. I can't see the difference in myself, but he claims he can see it in me."

I was in shock. "I had no idea."

She shrugged.

Though I was still pissed at her, she was the only family I had.

"Thank you for being here for me."

She hugged me more tightly. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."

Alice called Rose that afternoon and they both spent the rest of the weekend at my house with me. If Rose didn't approve of my decision, she kept this to herself. When Monday morning came, I got dressed and went to work, just as I'd always done.

I saw Edward everywhere. It was so naïve of me to assume that if I'd packed up all of his things, there would be no reminders of him. The memories were inescapable.

On Wednesday, I went to my session with Tanya. I told her I'd ended my relationship with Edward, but that I didn't want to discuss it. She billed my insurance company for way too much money to take no for an answer.

"It's not important," I insisted.

"I think it's extremely important. You broke up with your boyfriend, whom you claim to still love very much, on Thanksgiving, the same day on which your mother abandoned you as a baby."

"Holidays suck."

"You don't think that's a coincidence? That on some level, you pushed him away and ended the relationship on your terms rather than risk the alternative?"

"Which alternative would that be?"

"That he would abandon you. You'd rather leave him than live with the fear he could leave you."

I pulled my ponytail out of my hair in frustration. "He would leave me eventually, after missing experiences he'll never get back. Don't you see that?"

"You don't know that."

"I _do _know that."

"How?"

"Because why would anyone, let alone someone like him, ever want to be with someone like me? My own mother couldn't stand being around me. She wished she'd never had me. She told me that once. So much for a mother's love being unconditional."

"Just because a woman gives birth doesn't make her a mother."

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you, Marlo Thomas."

"You can't blame yourself for her actions."

"How can I not?"

"Your mother did a terrible thing, there's no doubt. You can't change it, but the longer you allow it to affect you the more power you're giving her. You're giving her power over your happiness. Does she deserve that?"

Huh.

"No."

"There you go. There are two things I'd like you to do this week. Write a letter to your mother. Tell her how you feel. You don't have to send it, but putting the words down on paper can be cathartic. When you've done that, I want you to make a list of the things you like about yourself. You can list whatever you like, but they should be aspects of who you are, not things you can do."

I snorted. "It's going to be a very short list."

"That's exactly why doing this is so important." She stretched out her right hand while keeping her pen between her long fingers. They were slender and elegant, like Edward's. "You're going to get through this, Bella."

"I've a good notion of what's coming to me. I'm facing the situation, facing it," I quoted.

"Really?" She put down her pen. "If you're so courageous in the face of hell, then why are you running?"

After the hour was finished, I went home and zoned out. Days turned into weeks, but there was nothing remarkable about them. Each morning I got dressed, and each evening I went to bed. Sometimes, I slept. I worked during the week and saw Jasper and Alice on Friday night at McGillin's. Men took interest in me. I nearly went home with one, but when his hand brushed my skin I didn't feel the rush I'd gotten previously from random conquests, nor did I feel the electricity I'd experienced when Edward touched me. I felt nothing. I realized that I could fuck him, and though doing so would temporarily plug my hole, it would never fill my void. I said goodbye to him and returned to Alice and Jasper.

I avoided the Art Museum. There were too many memories. I considered the days where I didn't let my ache for Edward consume me successes. The days where I threw myself onto my bed in a heap of tears and loneliness were my failures, despite the fact it was only at those moments when I allowed myself to feel anything at all. Though they made me feel like I was dying, they reminded me I was still alive. I clung to them with everything I had.

Christmas happened, as did New Year's Day. I didn't notice. The ground began to thaw even if I didn't, and one evening I got a phone call from Emmett telling me Rose was in labor. Alice and I arrived at the hospital just in time to welcome David William McCarty to the world. He was a strapping baby, just like his father had been, with chubby cheeks and a full head of dark, curly hair. I'd never seen Rose look so happy.

"Already a boob man," I joked as Rose fed her son.

"He likes to eat. What can I say?"

"How does that work?" Alice asked. "Getting implants didn't affect your ability to nurse?"

Rose and I looked at Alice, laughing.

"I didn't really get implants, and even if I had, it wouldn't."

"Huh?" Alice was so confused.

"I'll explain later," I said to Alice. "We should let you get your rest."

"Yes," Alice agreed. "Besides, I have an entire nursery to put together and thirty-six hours to make this happen. I still can't believe you wouldn't let me throw you a baby shower, but who am I to argue with tradition?"

Alice and I started to leave.

"Wait!" Rose yelled. "Mark your calendars for the bris. It will be eight days from today."

"Got it." Alice nodded as she left the room.

Rose grabbed my hand. "Just so you know, Em is inviting Edward. I'm not sure if he will be able to make it, and I will try to let you know one way or another beforehand. Just prepare yourself for the possibility that he will be there."

"Are you expecting a cage fight?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure what to expect. I know how hard this has been for you and I thought you deserved some advanced notice. I understand if you can't handle it and you decide not to come, but I wasn't going to tell Em he couldn't invite Edward. They have gotten extremely close–"

I didn't want to hear about Edward's life without me.

"I appreciate you telling me, and I'll let you know."

I left Rose's hospital room and walked right into Alice, who was blocking the way down the corridor to the elevator.

"What are you doing? The only way out is behind you."

"You don't want to go over there."

"Why not?"

"There's a really heinous fake Louis Vuitton bag at the nurse's station."

I rolled my eyes. "As if I'd notice. Please, we have an entire nursery to set up and we don't have much time…"

I stopped arguing with her when I saw him standing in front of the elevator. I'd know the hair anywhere. His back was to me and he was talking to Emmett.

"Let's go."

We hurried down the hall and squeezed passed Edward and Emmett. I touched Emmett's hand on my way inside the elevator, but I didn't stop to acknowledge them. Edward's eyes met mine briefly as I turned to push the button for the ground floor. They betrayed nothing.

I looked down at my feet while I waited for the doors to close.

What seemed like an eternity later, I was alone with Alice.

"He looks the same," I whispered, more to myself than to her.

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. Maybe that he would look the way I feel?"

"It's been four months. People get over things. Did you want him to wallow in misery? He's getting on with his life. This was what you wanted, right?"

I sighed. Alice was right. It was exactly what I'd hoped would happen. My mind knew this. My heart would heal eventually.


	38. Contrast of Forms

**chapter thirty-seven**

**contrast of forms**

* * *

The confirmation that Edward would indeed be at the bris didn't come as that much of a shock after seeing him at the hospital the night David was born. I was more surprised that he had obviously developed a close friendship with Emmett and Rose independent of me, and that neither of them had felt compelled to inform me of this. I knew better than to bother Rose with my slight feeling of betrayal, but had no problem whining to Alice and Jasper about it the following Friday night at McGillin's.

"I'm just a little confused as to how and when they made contact again."I poured myself another lager from the pitcher on the table.

"What do you mean again?" Jasper asked. "Em and Edward never lost contact."

I shifted in my seat.

"Bella, please tell me you aren't so self-absorbed that this bothers you."

"No, it doesn't bother me. I just don't understand why no one told me."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Um, maybe because we knew you'd react this way. Clearly, we were right."

"All this time I've been in agony wondering how Edward was and what he was doing, Rose was in contact with him?"

"Yes‚" she confirmed.

"Lovely. For the record, I feel more than a little betrayed."

"Why?" Jasper asked. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Because Rose knew exactly how much not talking to Edward was killing me."

"So you claim, but you still never called him. Wait, that's right, you wouldn't. You dumped him for his own good."

"Actually, Jazz, I broke up with him because I was afraid eventually he'd break up with me. I was trying to cut my losses."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"I wish I were."

Jasper refilled his glass. "What do you want from him?"

"I want him back. And this time, I want forever."

The ease with which the words came out of my mouth amazed me. If only I could have said this four months ago…

"There are no guarantees," Alice interjected. "You can't panic and break his heart again. Not only does he not deserve that, but Em will kill you."

"I know, and I won't." I sat back in my seat and took a deep breath. "Do you think I can get him to talk to me at the bris?"

"I don't think it would be appropriate for you to even try," she answered. "You should call him afterward."

"I agree," Jasper added. "Furthermore, if you think there is even a chance your issues will detract from the occasion, you should skip the bris. Rose gave you an out. Use it."

As tempting as it was, I knew I couldn't stay home from the bris. I was, however, grateful to have a session with Tanya beforehand. We discussed the brief encounter I'd had with Edward at the hospital in great detail.

"How did it make you feel to see him again?"

"It hurt. I realize though that it's entirely my fault. He looks exactly the same as he did while we were together. I think that was what shocked me most of all. Maybe it's because I feel as though I've changed so much. I'm not the same person I was on Thanksgiving, and I'd assumed that the same was true of him."

"Why didn't you talk to him?"

"I couldn't."

"Had you recited your affirmations that morning?"

After I'd made my list of positive attributes, Tanya decided it would be beneficial for me to read them to myself each morning in front of the mirror with the idea that I would begin to believe them. I laughed and told her she was on crack. She assured me she was serious and that this had proven to be a useful exercise. I then asked her if she found her PhD in the bottom of a Cracker Jack box. She laughed, telling me to trust her. I reminded her that if I were capable of trust, I wouldn't be in need of her services. She insisted it couldn't hurt to try.

Though I felt like a complete asshat the first few times I did it, reciting my positive attributes did help me to some extent. It was slowly becoming easier for me to look for the good in a situation, rather than to dwell on the bad. When I'd first drawn up the list, it only had four items on it. Tanya asked to see it, and it was cut down to three. Apparently, my lack of a gag reflex was not what she considered a positive personality trait. However, my humor, compassion, and intelligence were. As time went on, I found myself adding more things I liked about myself to the list. Much to my amazement, my daily monologue soon became approximately the same length as Hamlet's soliloquy. I had indeed executed this ritual on the day David was born.

"Yes. I don't think my inability to speak to Edward had anything to do with my self-image issues. Honestly, I was just scared. Understanding something on a theoretical level and seeing it before you are two vastly different things, you know. I'm not sure which of the possible scenarios had me more on edge. The idea that I caused him to hurt as much as I do, or the possibility that losing me didn't affect him at all."

"You need to fess up. Either tell him that you lied to him and ended your relationship because of your own fears, or let it go. You can't go on like this."

"I know."

"So what will it be?" she asked.

"I can't let this be the end."

"There you have it. But you need to understand that you have to be more open with him. If he is willing to hear you out and take you back, you have to trust him. You won't always be in control. You must understand and accept this."

"I know. I get it."

To psych myself up to see Edward, I stepped my self-esteem exercises up a notch. I recited my affirmations twice daily leading up to the bris. I reread the text messages and emails he'd sent me while we were dating, and reminded myself that I was worthy of his attention and his love. None of this helped ease my doubt that I was worthy of his forgiveness.

It was probably cruel of me to wear the black suit I'd worn the first time I'd visited Edward in his dorm room. I knew he reacted physically to the sight of me in it, but I needed to feel on top of my game if I was going to attempt to hold a conversation with him. As I stood in front of Emmett's parents' house on the day of the bris, I breathed deeply and counted to ten.

I could do this.

I rang the doorbell, and Emmett's mother appeared.

"Bella!" She opened the door and gestured me inside. "It's so nice to see you again. You can hang your coat up in the closet. It's the first door on your right in the hallway."

"Thank you, Mrs. McCarty." I smiled at her and walked down the hall toward the closet. I stopped when I heard a voice from behind the closed powder-room door.

"I'm sorry to put you through this; I just couldn't face her alone."

Edward.

I knew it was wrong of me to eavesdrop, especially since I suspected he was talking about me. Regardless, I angled my head toward the door so I could hear more clearly.

A female voice answered. "I understand. Besides, I wouldn't have let you come alone, even if you'd insisted."

He wasn't alone. I felt like I'd just been stabbed.

"Are you okay?" the mystery woman asked.

"I'm fine. I knew coming here wouldn't be easy, but I wasn't going to ignore something that was such a big deal to Emmett because one of the persons on the guest list made me a little uncomfortable."

"There are enough people here. You can easily avoid Bella if necessary."

"I know."

"So, have you ever been to one of these before?"

"No," Edward said. "I'm a little squeamish about that, too."

"Why? It's not like you aren't circumcised," she said, laughing.

"Obviously, but to my knowledge, it wasn't done with an audience and an open bar."

I stepped away from the door. Whoever she was, she spoke of Edward's penis as if she knew it intimately. I didn't know her, but I hated her.

"Bella, are you having problems finding the closet?" Mrs. McCarty's voice jolted me out of my reverie. "I'm sorry I'm being a bad hostess. It's right here."

She gestured directly across the hall from where I'd been standing just as the powder room door opened. Out walked Edward, followed by Angela.

She smiled when she saw me. "Hello, Bella."

Angela may have seemed genuine, but she was just in a bathroom with Edward discussing my penis. I didn't trust her.

"Angela, Edward." I nodded toward each of them.

"Do you need any help with anything, Mrs. McCarty?"

If Angela's voice got any more sugary, I would go into diabetic shock.

"Yes, actually, if you don't mind. Thank you."

Angela and Emmett's mother headed back toward the kitchen, leaving me alone with Edward. The moment they were out of earshot, he spoke.

"I remember that suit."

I smiled. "I knew you would."

My eyes raked over his body; he looked as beautiful as ever.

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"No. I came straight from work‚" I lied. "How have you been?"

"You have no right to ask me that."

"No, I suppose I don't. I'm sorry. Still, I would like to know."

He raised an eyebrow. "You care?"

"Yes."

"Right. So when were you lying? Then or now?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

I sighed. This wasn't going well. "Can we just start over?" I held out my hand to him. "Hi, I'm Bella."

"No, you're delusional."

Ouch.

"Fine, I deserved that."

He folded his arms across his chest. "What changed?"

"I don't understand–"

"Between now and at the hospital, when you wouldn't even look at me. What changed?"

"At the hospital, I was caught off-guard. I didn't expect to see you there. I like to think I would have behaved differently were I not so surprised."

"Surprised to see me, or surprised I was still in contact with Emmett?"

"Both."

He took a step back from me, shaking his head. "What do you want?"

We were gestured into the living room before I had a chance to answer. During the bris itself, I lingered in the back. I studied Angela and Edward, and how they interacted with each other. It was obvious they were quite close. There was an ease and intimacy to them that was not present among casual acquaintances. Still, I didn't get the sense they were involved. They rarely touched, but when they did, it didn't seem sexual.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, I congratulated Rose and Emmett and somehow dodged Alice and Jasper. I just needed a moment alone with Edward to find out if he'd be willing to talk with me privately. The moment never came. He stuck by Angela's side, and they left quickly after the ceremony. I watched them get into Edward's car through a living room window. Angela drove. Edward did not open the door for her.

I didn't know exactly what was going on between them, or how Angela knew what Edward's penis looked like, but I was now completely certain they were not involved romantically. I was ecstatic and relieved, until I realized that I still didn't know if he was single. I just knew he wasn't banging the only girl in his social circle whom I'd considered worthy of him.

Getting him to come back to me was going to be even harder than I'd thought.


	39. Mother and Child

**chapter thirty-eight**

**mother and child**

**

* * *

**

I had to hand it to Tanya. As I'd related to her my brief exchange with Edward at the bris, she somehow managed not to look at me as if I'd ruined any chance I had for a reconciliation. She didn't need to. Hearing myself say the words out loud again more than drove the point home. Edward wanted nothing to do with me.

"What now?" she asked.

"I don't think he can forgive me."

"You do realize what you are asking him to do, right?"

"Yes. I need him to understand that I was scared and I panicked. I never intended to hurt him, though now it's fairly obvious I did."

"You want him to forgive you for leaving him."

"Yes."

"Have you forgiven James for leaving you?"

"He never asked me–."

"That's irrelevant."

I sighed. "No, I haven't forgiven James."

"Have you forgiven your mother?"

"No."

"You ended your relationship with Edward because you didn't want him to have the power to hurt you, yet you continue to hand that exact power to two people who have proven themselves completely unworthy."

"Neither my mother, nor James, has any power over me."

"But they do. They have been gone from your life for years, yet you still let them control you. When you run from your emotions, when you shut yourself down, every time you believe yourself unworthy of happiness, you let them win."

"I don't understand how it's possible for them to win a game they ceased playing years ago. Neither of them have anything to do with me. I doubt James even remembers I exist, and my mother only does on a good day."

"So why do you continue to forfeit to them?"

I couldn't answer Tanya's question, but I spent the next week thinking about it. I still had the letter I'd written to my mother. In it, I outlined how her selfishness had hurt me. One morning, I took it from the bottom of my underwear drawer downstairs to my living room. I opened the flue of my fireplace and set the paper ablaze. As flames consumed the anguish-soaked paper, I felt oddly cathartic. When there was nothing left but ashes, I sat down at my dining room table and began to write a second letter.

**-o-O-o-**

_Dear Mommy (Renee),_

_I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to call you. I know you prefer that I use your first name, but I never liked calling you Renee. It made me feel as though you were ashamed to be my mother, even though on an intellectual level, I understood that I'd never given you a reason to feel that way. Emotionally, I felt completely at fault._

_I don't understand what kind of woman would abandon her six-week-old child, and I doubt I ever will. I thought it had to have been me, that I must have done something to make you want to leave. I'm finally understanding that it wasn't. I don't know why you didn't love me enough to stay with me, and quite frankly, it no longer matters… I just know that whatever it was that compelled you to go, it wasn't my fault._

_I spent my entire life feeling as though I were unlovable. It may have been true, but not because you deemed me so. If anything, it was because I didn't love myself. You don't know me, so you won't know what I mean when I tell you that I am worthy. I'm bright and funny. I'm loyal, almost to a fault. I'm compassionate. I have a way of putting people at ease in very uncomfortable situations. I'm capable of loving with such intensity that I feel physical pain when people I care about are hurting. I want to make it better for them, even at my own expense. Sometimes I fail, but my intentions are always pure._

_I'm a good person. I believe that now, even if I didn't always. You may not have stayed with me long enough to know that, but others will. You may not love me, but it doesn't matter to me anymore because I love myself. I'm letting it all go – the anger, the unmet expectations, and the crippling fear that I couldn't survive being abandoned again. I'm stronger than I thought I was. I'm no longer going to punish other people for your mistakes. I'm forgiving you, with the hope that in doing so, I'll somehow learn to forgive myself._

_Isabella_

**-o-O-o-**

I put it in an envelope and before I could change my mind, I stepped into my shoes and dropped it in the mailbox on the corner. As the blue tray flipped shut, I felt a twinge of panic, which was soon eclipsed by a feeling of tremendous relief. It wasn't the end of my issues, but it was a good start.

Spring slowly grew warmer, and though I missed Edward more than I could express, I made no attempt to contact him. I wasn't sure how. I didn't want to call him because I doubted he would answer the phone. Writing him a letter or an email seemed cowardly. I just went on with my life, hoping that I would run into him at some point. I worked, read, and helped Rose with the baby. Somehow, I even managed not to mention Edward to her, until one afternoon in late May. As Rose and I took turns pushing the stroller on the jogging trail surrounding Newton Creek, my curiosity overwhelmed me.

"How is he?"

Rose answered after a moment. "How is who?"

"Edward. I know you see him regularly."

"He's doing well…now." Her implication that he hadn't always was no doubt intentional. "He ended his first semester on the Dean's List."

I smiled. "He's so gifted." We walked in silence for a moment. "Does he ever ask about me?"

"Bella, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't ask me to betray him."

"It's not a betrayal unless he specifically asked you not to tell me."

"I disagree. Look, I'm not trying to be a bitch here. I have a friendship with Edward outside of my friendship with you. I don't tell him about you when he asks, and I'm not telling you about him. If you want to know how he is, grow a set and call him."

Whoa.

"Edward has asked about me?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Did you not hear a fucking word I just said? I'm not involving myself. I'm a litigator, not a freaking mediator."

Even though Rose was stressed and sleep-deprived, it wasn't like her to snap like this. It couldn't just be me. I wondered how frequently and with what intensity Edward pumped her for information.

"I'm sorry. I would never dream of compromising you. You've been nothing but wonderful to me, and I value your friendship. I won't ask you about Edward again."

"Thank you. I'm proud of you, by the way."

"For what?" I laughed. "For recognizing that I was behaving unfairly just now?"

"Yes, actually. Six months ago, you wouldn't have been able to see this from my perspective."

Ouch.

"That stings."

"I'm sure it does. Take it as a compliment; that's how I intended it."

I shifted the conversation to David's most recent check-up, and if Rose had been upset with me for grilling her, it was forgotten the moment I mentioned her son.

Time was my perpetual enemy. Each day dragged on endlessly. Despite this, I was amazed at the speed with which they collectively flew. Soon it was my last class of the last day of the school year. My ninth graders cringed when I plunked a handout down on the front of each row and asked them to take one and pass the rest behind them.

One of my students whined from the back row. "Oh, come on Ms. Swan. No one does work today."

I smiled. "What makes you think this is work?"

"It's a poem. How is it not work?"

"It's a gift, from me to you. Who would like to read it?" I scanned the class for volunteers. Of course, there were none. "You do realize I haven't turned in final grades to the office yet?"

Roughly a dozen hands shot up.

"I'm kidding. This doesn't count. Like I said, this isn't work. Would anyone like to read anyway?" There were no volunteers. "Fine, then." I leaned against my desk and recited _The Road Not Taken_. When I finished, one hand was raised. Looking forward to getting a discussion started, I gestured for her to speak.

"You didn't look at the paper."

I should have expected this. They were, after all, freshmen.

"These words are very special to me, which is why I wanted you to have them. The most worthwhile course is rarely the easiest. You can go with the crowd, or you can make your own way. It's never easy, but it's far more rewarding than the alternative."

"This poem could just as easily be about avoiding the bridge traffic on Route 70 during rush hour," another student called from the back.

I laughed. "True. The great thing about poetry—and art in general, really—is that it's all open to interpretation." The bell rang, but I gestured for everyone to wait. " I enjoyed teaching every single one of you. Good luck next year, and feel free to stop in and see me. Take care, and be safe."

The class shuffled out, but one student lingered by my desk, nervously shifting her backpack from one shoulder to the other.

"Robert Frost makes it sound so easy," she said.

"Everything sounds easy when it rhymes."

She laughed, but exhibited no joy in doing so. "So what do you do when you have to make a decision, and the options aren't presented in ABAAB?"

"You do what you think is right, and ask for help when you need it." Something about her reminded me of me. I remembered how much as a teenager, I'd longed for any adult to take an interest in me. I'd wondered if my self-image would have been better heading into adulthood if just one authority figure had given me an occasional pep talk. I took a post-it note from my desk and wrote my school email address down on it. "I check this periodically during the summer. If you need to talk, I'm here to listen to you."

Her relief was palpable. "Thank you, Ms. Swan."

As she left the room, I sank into my chair and exhaled slowly. Another school year gone.

On the morning of Edward's eighteenth birthday, I found myself drawn inexplicably to the Art Museum. I settled myself into our bench and lost myself in how I could still feel so close to him even though I hadn't seen him in months. Even though he wasn't here, I felt as if I could say the words I needed to say to him out loud, and somehow he would hear me. My eyes scanned the crowded exhibition hall, and I realized that even though such an exercise would be extremely beneficial for me, the people around me would think I was insane. I remembered writing the letter to my mother, and how it made me feel to put the words down on paper. I'd never heard from her, but I still found comfort in saying what I needed to say. I took out my iPhone and began to type. It was a cowardly electronic cop-out, and I knew it. Still, he deserved to know the truth.

**-o-O-o-**

_Dearest Edward,_

_After everything I've put you through, I fully expect you to delete this without reading it. And I would deserve that. I don't deserve for you to read this, to enable me to unburden my soul. If I carried my guilt and shame of how I treated you eternally, it would still be less punishment than I deserve. If I were bound to a rock like Prometheus, if an eagle were to tear my liver out of my flesh each day of eternity, I would still think my punishment lenient._

_I lied to you on Thanksgiving, Edward. I loved you, then and now, more than I can possibly articulate. I'm not going to make excuses for my actions, because there are none. I do, however, want you to know that I am in therapy and working on my issues. I can't take back what I said to you that night, but I can let you know I will regret hurting you as long as I breathe._

_I'll love you even longer._

_Bella_

**-o-O-o-**

I sat on our bench for hours after I pressed send, equating leaving with admitting defeat. When the museum was about to close, a security guard approached me and quietly asked me if I was lost. I admitted that I was, but assured her that I was slowly finding my way.

In the early days of summer, I checked my email compulsively, feeling a rush of excitement each time I had received a new message, followed by mind numbing emptiness when I realized it was wasn't from Edward. His silence notwithstanding, somewhere deep in my soul I knew we were far from over. I was prepared to bide my time. As the warmth of June became the steam of July, I knew I was done waiting. I picked out colors and painted the interior of my house. I finally bought living room furniture and hung art prints on the walls. If the austerity of the plain plaster walls and lack of comfortable seating previously repelled visitors, the rich warm colors now present in my home encouraged guests to linger.

Alice and Rose encouraged me to begin dating again, but it held no appeal for me. I found the value in my life even if I chose to live it alone, and I was eternally grateful for the love of my friends. I celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday by hosting a dinner party for Rose, Em, Alice and Jasper. I presented each of them with a card detailing why I was thankful to have them in my life. It was more than enough for me.

Three weeks into the new school year, I opened my laptop to four new email messages, one of which was from Edward. My hands trembled so much as I clicked to open it, three windows appeared with Edward's words.

_Bella,_

_I've never lied to you._

_Edward_


	40. Old Friends

**chapter thirty-nine**

**old friends (silent conversation)**

* * *

I wasn't sure how long I stared at my laptop, disbelieving the existence of Edward's reply while pondering its contents. Three months ago, I gave him my soul. Today, he responded with five small words. As cryptic as it was, it didn't take long before I was able to accept his message for exactly what it was—a declaration of undying love.

I didn't know where to take it from here, and I was running late for work. As much as I wanted to sit and think, I needed to press on with my day. I vowed not to obsess about Edward's email and lost myself in my students and my classes. After I finished teaching, I went home and walked around my neighborhood to clear my head and decide what my next move would be. Edward and I could never go back to the way things were, and if I were to be completely honest with myself, I didn't want that.

An hour later, I studied my reflection in my bathroom mirror and recited my affirmations before going downstairs and getting my iPhone. I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and dialed.

He answered on the second ring.

"Hello, Bella."

"Edward."

Silence.

I took my phone away from ear and glanced at the display, wondering if the call dropped. It hadn't.

"Can we talk?" I asked.

"I'm listening."

"I mean in person."

"Okay. There's a diner on Route One called the Princetonian. Meet me there in an hour."

He hung up, and I spent the next several minutes staring at my iPhone in disbelief before realizing I had roughly forty-five minutes to throw myself together and drive up to Princeton. I was still dressed for school, but he hadn't given me enough time to change. Deciding that punctuality was more important than my appearance, I grabbed my keys and ran out the door.

A little less than an hour later, I walked inside the diner and scanned the room. In a booth toward the back, I saw a head of messy auburn hair hunched over the table. I clung to my affirmations, chanting them silently in my mind as I walked slowly towards him. He looked up when I was three booths away. Seeing him made my breath catch in my throat. Though he was still Edward, his appearance had changed dramatically. His hair was longer than I remembered, and his face had thinned out considerably. Sideburns drew attention to his angular jaw, no longer softened by residual childhood pudge. Dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his face indicated that he'd neither shaved nor slept recently.

When I was in front of the table, he stood and waited until I was settled into the booth before taking his seat.

As inappropriate as it was, I couldn't stop staring. "You look different."

"So do you. Your hair is short." His voice was now a touch deeper and a bit raspier, but still beautiful.

As I touched my hair, I realized though my hair was now shoulder-length, the last time he saw me it was much longer.

"A few months ago, I had it bobbed and donated it to charity. It's actually grown back a bit."

"Oh."

The waitress came and took our drink orders. For several moments, we sat in silence.

"This is awkward," I said.

"What did you expect?" He laughed as he spoke.

If nothing else, his laugh was the same.

"Actually, I had no expectations whatsoever."

"I find that hard to believe. I'm sure you expected that you'd receive a response to your email."

"Not exactly. To say I expected a response seems to imply that I felt entitled to one, which I did not. Somehow, despite that, I knew I would eventually get one. Edward…"

I reached across the table and touched his hand. He pulled away from me as if I had burned him.

"Don't. Please, just don't."

I moved my hands back to my lap. "I'm sorry."

"I know." He sighed.

The waitress brought our drinks, and Edward told her he would let her know if we needed anything else.

"You've now had a chance to tell me you're sorry in person. Apology accepted. Is there anything else you want?"

"I'd like to see you."

"You're looking at me right now."

I took a deep breath. "I mean, I'd like to see you again romantically. I'm asking for a second chance with you."

"I'm no longer available to you that way."

"You have a girlfriend?"

When he didn't answer, I assumed that he had.

"I hope you aren't compromised by coming to see me today," I muttered bitterly. When the tears came, I didn't try to stop them. "I got your email and I just thought…I don't know what I thought. I must have misinterpreted it. I thought you'd meant that you weren't lying when you said you'd always want me. I now know you meant you weren't lying when you said I was delusional, which clearly I am. I'm sorry; I won't bother you again."

I stood to leave. Without touching me, he blocked my way with his arm. I sank into the booth.

"You left me." His voice was full of anguish. "You don't know what that did to me. You don't get to play the victim here."

"Oh, I know," I wailed through my tears. "Edward, I know. I don't deserve to have a second chance with you. I know that. I didn't expect that you would wait for me. I know it was selfish of me to attempt to resume contact with you. I never doubted your love for me, even though at the time I was incapable of returning it. I know I hurt you and I know I no longer have any claim to you. I know I'm irrational, but I also know I love you and despite distance, time, and the fact you appear to be currently involved with someone else, it still feels like you belong to me."

"Don't you see?" His voice was quiet and plaintive. "That's the problem. I've always belonged to you._ You've _always belonged to you. No one has ever belonged to me."

I wanted to tell him that I was ready to belong to him, that I have in his absence, and that if he would only give me another chance he would know that, but I couldn't. My words would mean nothing to him.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. He was angry with me for things that I'd done. He wasn't rejecting me. He didn't even really know me anymore, and I didn't know him. Though I'd come here with the intention of asking him to take me back, I now understood we could never pick up where we left off.

"I know. I'm sorry, Edward. God, how I'm sorry." I wiped my eyes, determined to keep some of my dignity intact. "I won't keep you any longer. Thank you for listening to me, for letting me apologize. I should let you go before your girlfriend realizes you're out with your ex."

"I didn't say I had a girlfriend. I said I was no longer available to you."

"You aren't seeing anyone?"

"It's complicated. You?"

I shrugged. I'd tell him about my self-imposed celibacy if we became intimate again. As merely a friend, my sexual activity or lack thereof was not his concern. Meanwhile, he'd implied he was in a physical relationship with no expectation of exclusivity. This was so not the Edward I knew.

"Does this person with whom you have a complicated relationship know you are out with your ex-girlfriend right now?"

"Yes. She knows all about you. She also knows that I'd like to reopen communication with you, that I can't stand the thought of letting another year pass without hearing your voice or knowing how you're doing. She understands that I need you in my life—"

"And she didn't cut her losses and cross her legs?"

"I told you, it's not like that."

"So you've said. Tell me, Edward, does she also know you're still in love with me?"

"Yes."

"And she still tolerates this? Is she thinking she's going to fuck her way into your heart? For someone who seems to be so sexually liberated, she's either naïve or not that bright. What, did her father donate a building to get her into Princeton?"

"Enough. I won't let you bad-mouth someone you've never met, nor will I permit you to speak disparagingly of a relationship you are unable to understand."

"Fine. But if we're going to be friends, I should know your fuck buddy. What's her name?"

"Kate, and she's not a fuck buddy."

"Semantics." I waved my hand dismissively. "And how do you know Kate?"

"Stop it; she has nothing to do with us."

"Fine, we'll leave her out of this. You don't find that at all morally compromising? Being involved in a complicated relationship with one woman while being in love with another? I would have never thought you were capable of using someone for sex."

"Aren't we the little hypocrite?" He glared at me from across the table. "This is coming from the woman to whom I willingly gave every bit of myself, only to be told I was nothing more than a good lay. Tell me, Bella, were you even faithful to me?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"You may not have cheated, but you were certainly deceptive enough. Our entire relationship, you _knew_ I felt objectified. There were many ways you could have broken things off with me, but you chose the one you knew would cause the most damage. Meanwhile, you now have the audacity to give me a guilt trip for pursuing other interests after you callously discarded me, though while we were dating you expressed genuine regret that if we stayed together, I would only ever experience intimacy with you. Now that I have dated other people"which you always said was a necessary part of the growing up"you have the balls to make me feel as if I somehow misled the girls who graciously offered me solace in your absence. I haven't changed that much, Bella. I've never lied to any of them, nor have I ever lied to you."

I hoped my voice didn't betray my optimism.

"You still want me."

"Yes."

"And you still love me."

"Yes."

"You want me in your life–"

"I _need _you in my life."

"But you have no interest in a reconciliation with me."

"That's correct."

"That makes no sense."

I must have antagonized him too much. He gestured for the check. When the waitress brought it over, he plunked down a platinum Amex. He was eighteen; of course he'd have a credit card. It sat on the table, a sparkling reminder of the ten months of his life that I'd missed.

"Have you decided this conversation is over?" I asked.

"Not unless you want it to be. I'd just like to get some air." He stood and gestured to the exit. "Shall we?"

I numbly followed him to the door. As he held it open for me, his eyes lingered on my body longer than I thought necessary.

"Did you dress up to come see me?" he asked as we walked through the parking lot.

I looked down at my long-sleeved wrap dress and heels. "No. I wore this to work today. Why?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. It's just different from what I'm used to seeing you wear to school." He stopped in front of my car. "I can't believe that thing is still running."

"Why wouldn't it be? I take excellent care of it."

"That you do. If only…never mind."

The sun was setting behind him, and I had to cock my head to the side and squint in order to see him, like if I focused on him fully I'd go blind.

He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. The brief feeling of his skin against mine awakened a long-dormant flutter in my pelvis.

"What now?" I asked. "I feel as if we're at an impasse."

"Are you saying that unless I take you back romantically, you want nothing to do with me?"

"I'm saying I won't be one of your fuck buddies."

He took a small step away from me and shook his head. "I would never think of you—or any woman—that way." He threw his arms down in frustration. "You're just as exasperating as ever. You didn't let me explain, and now you think I'm a manwhore."

"I just think you're a man."

"As opposed to a child?"

"I know I haven't always treated you with the respect you deserved, and I'm sorry for that. I don't expect you to believe me, but it had more to do with my opinion of myself than my opinion of you."

I sighed as I opened my car door. "It's getting late, and it's a school night."

"I don't have any classes tomorrow."

I sat in the driver's seat and cranked down the window. "Yes, but I do."

"So what now?"

"May I call you?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe isn't no." I used his words from what seemed like another lifetime.

Without looking at him, I stepped on the clutch and fired up my car. I drove home with the windows down and the music up, concentrating on the warm air and the simple fact that although I had no idea in what capacity, Edward was back in my life. It was enough for now.


	41. Morning Haze

**chapter forty**

**morning haze**

* * *

I was unable to pinpoint the exact moment in time when I became best friends with an eighteen-year-old college sophomore. I only know that as days passed and we continued to speak, we grew more comfortable with each other. We were not without our awkward silences. We had our share of moments when without thinking we made statements that would never cause pain to a friend, but were daggers when directed to a former lover. Though recovering from these unintentional barbs was not always easy, we somehow always managed to bounce back from them. This was never more apparent than when, three days after meeting at the diner, I spontaneously called him to apologize for my reaction to the implication that he was engaging in casual sex.

"I didn't intend it like that." I flopped on my living room sofa with my iPhone and a glass of wine. "I know it came off as if I was being possessive and hypocritical. I wasn't."

"Oh?"

"I don't want you to end up like me."

He sighed. "I appreciate your apology, but going forward, I'd prefer it if we didn't discuss sex or our failed attempt at a relationship. I have no desire to revisit those days emotionally or otherwise."

"I feel like I have a lot to explain to you–"

"For your benefit or for mine?"

He had a point.

"You're right. I'm sorry." I fidgeted with my wine glass. "Tell me about school. Are your classes what you'd thought they'd be? Have you officially declared a major? I'd like to hear everything."

Thus began my friendship with Edward. We spent six hours on the phone that night, and though I was a zombie teaching the following day, my exhaustion was completely worthwhile. In the beginning, we spoke every few days. Soon emails peppered the communication gaps. By the time the ground was frozen, we were speaking daily and emailing back and forth every chance we got.

I never brought up his relationship status, nor did he inquire of mine. In our current context, it didn't matter. Though I hadn't seen him since the night at the diner, I somehow felt closer to him than I ever had. As always, I was intensely attracted to his intellect. Our nightly conversations were filled with playful banter, and despite the fact there was absolutely nothing sexual about them in nature, they felt like foreplay.

He came home for Christmas, and we began spending more and more time together. As we shopped for gifts along Walnut Street in the brisk December air, I felt strangely emboldened. The beauty of the city paled only in comparison to Edward, who in a pale gray pea coat and dark jeans looked like he'd fallen out of a magazine. I spoke to him impulsively.

"I'm not sure if this against the rules, but I do have a question."

"The rules? Have I actually laid down rules?"

"You have. So many, in fact, one would think you were the teacher and I the student. I actually have a mental image of them written on a big piece of poster board hanging above a third grade chalkboard."

"Ah. And you find yourself wanting to break one of them. Are you telling me you want to be naughty?"

"I can't be naughty," I insisted. "It's against the rules."

"What exactly _are_ these rules as you perceive them?"

"No touching of any kind. No talking about the past if it specifically relates to the period during which we were a couple. No flirting and no sexual innuendos. And absolutely no inquiries regarding any sexual activities with which you may or may not be involved currently, or acknowledging the existence of sex in general."

He laughed. "Have I really come off as that tyrannical?"

"Yes, but it's okay. You have your reasons and I respect them. There is, however, something I would like to know."

He interrupted me before I could ask my question.

"No, I'm not currently involved with anyone."

I stopped dead on the sidewalk and looked at him.

"That was what you wanted to know, wasn't it? Why do you seem so surprised by this? I spend nearly every spare moment talking to you. If I were involved with someone, I'd have no time to sleep."

His admission both thrilled and terrified me. Still, it wasn't the question I had in mind.

"That wasn't what I was going to ask you, but thank you for telling me."

"What _woul_d you like to know?"

I looked down at my feet for several seconds before meeting his gaze.

"Your parents must hate me." It was more of a question than a statement.

"Oh." He looked straight ahead, and we continued walking. "They did at first."

"And now?"

"My mother is a psychiatrist; she understands." He put his arm around me and gave me a gentle squeeze before quickly dropping it to his side. Oddly, it was more comforting than arousing. "What about you?"

"I'm seeing a psychologist. Unlike your mother's patients, there's no medication involved."

"I understand the difference between the two disciplines. I meant to ask you if you're seeing anyone romantically."

"No. I haven't seen anyone since we broke up."

He looked at me perplexedly. "Have you…"

We were stopped at an intersection, and I turned to face him.

"No. I haven't done that, either."

I didn't need to say anything else. He understood.

We passed the next few months as friends with an understanding. Though our touches didn't linger, we no longer went out of the way to avoid them. We developed an ease with each other I would not have thought possible for two people of the opposite sex. I was incredibly happy, if not exactly content. Tanya warned me of the dangers of settling for less than I wanted. She believed I was subconsciously saving myself for Edward. There may have been some truth to that. I did crave physical intimacy, but he was the only person from whom I wanted it. It seemed selfish and wrong of me to date someone else for filler. I had love and companionship, even if it was from a geographical distance. I preferred meaningful emotional discourse to meaningless sexual intercourse.

Soon the ground became soft again, and islands of tulips dotted the sea of reawakening grass. I was in the middle of teaching a class about essay writing when my I felt my iPhone vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it until the end of the school day, when I viewed my recent calls. There were twelve from Edward. My heart was in my throat as I called him. I knew something was wrong, but nothing prepared me for the sound of his voice. It was calm and oddly detached.

"We lost Dad."

Huh?

"He was on his way home from the hospital and his car was hit by a drunk driver. They took him to Cooper Trauma, but there was nothing they could do."

"Oh my god, Edward. I'm so incredibly sorry." My tears came instantly, but words failed me. "Where are you now?"

"With my mother. She's still in shock."

I couldn't imagine her pain. "Please let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you. It's just good to know that you're there…"

"Always, Edward. Always."

John Carlisle Cullen IV was buried on a misty day in April. I attended the funeral with Alice and Jasper. I sat in the back, and I didn't go through the receiving line. If I were Esme, the last person I would want to see on the day I buried my husband would be the woman who broke my son's heart. Edward insisted on giving his father's eulogy. He spoke of their friendship, and how Carlisle had been the single greatest influence in his life. His voice never wavered, but I knew he was in pain. I felt a tightening in my chest as if a weight had been laid upon me. Each breath I took pierced my flesh and I found myself bargaining with a God I wasn't entirely sure existed. I would sacrifice my life, my soul, even my salvation if only I could switch places with Carlisle and give Edward his father back.

I knew at that moment what it was to love someone completely. I belonged to Edward entirely, and whether or not there was a future for us became irrelevant. As long as he needed me, I would be at his side.

Esme followed the casket out of the church, flanked by Edward and a woman I assumed was her sister. Her eyes briefly met mine, and as she passed, she gave me a small smile. Despite everything I'd done and everything she'd been through, she still found it somewhere within herself to acknowledge me. Her grace and strength were astounding.

After the burial, Alice and I sat in my living room, two untouched glasses of wine in front of us.

"My heart breaks for Esme," she said.

"I know."

"How do you recover from that? She has now buried both a child and a husband. I don't care how well-balanced a person is. If that were me, I'd want to put a bullet in my head."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you read the obituary?"

I shook my head.

"He and Esme had a son before Edward. John Carlisle Cullen V. He died in infancy. I guess Edward never told you that?"

"No."

There was still so much I didn't know about Edward. If my heart had broken for Esme earlier, this new bit of information made it bleed.

I was still awake when my doorbell rang shortly after midnight. I opened the door and saw Edward standing on my porch with his face stained and his shoulders slumped. I held out my arms, and he fell into them sobbing. I'm not sure how long I held him, I just knew I could never ease his pain. I could only offer him my complete acceptance and hope it would be enough.

Hours later, still awake, we sat on my couch. My arms were around him, and his head rested on my shoulder.

"How is your mother?" I stroked his hair as I spoke.

"At the moment, sleeping. It's been several days since she's gotten any rest, so her doctor gave her a sedative."

"You didn't leave her alone, did you?"

"No. She's with my aunt. When she goes back to Iowa in a few days, it will just be the two of us. The house is going to feel so empty."

"I know."

"I'm moving home. I just can't leave her. Not yet. I only have classes three days a week. I can commute, at least for a while anyway. Right now, my mother comes first."

"I'm so sorry, Edward. Truly. If there's anything I can do…"

"Just…stay with me. Please don't leave me again."

"I'm not going anywhere."

He curled up onto my sofa and rested his head in my lap. He closed his eyes, and I softly traced the dark circles underneath his eyes.

"Try to rest. You need to be strong for your mother."

I stayed awake all night, even after he eventually fell asleep, wondering how I could have ever questioned his maturity. As he slept with his head on my lap, I'd never felt closer to another human being, nor had I ever loved anyone more. I felt so incredibly powerless, but for some reason it didn't frighten me. I made a silent promise that whatever Edward needed from me, I would offer him willingly. For better or worse, I was finally his.


	42. Kneeling Angel with Two Putti

**chapter forty-one**

**kneeling angel with two putti**

* * *

Time was a tireless enemy. Whether I was prepared or not, it marched onward decimating me in its wake. I arrived at work the day after Carlisle's funeral with a physical exhaustion punctuated with a burn behind my eyes no amount of coffee could assuage. As I stopped by the main office on my way to my classroom, I found myself wishing I'd taken a second personal day.

"Rough night?"

I turned to see another teacher standing beside me.

I shrugged. "Not compared to other people, I guess."

"I saw you at Dr. Cullen's viewing two nights ago, but I didn't get a chance to talk to you. I just stopped by briefly to pay my respects to Edward, poor kid. Losing a parent that young is terrible, but he and his father were so close. I didn't realize you'd ever had Edward in class. Didn't he skip ninth grade?"

"He did, and I didn't. Edward and I are close friends."

She looked at me as if she wanted me to elaborate. Instead, I changed the subject.

"Did you have Edward in class?"

"Yes, for AP English his senior year. He was a joy to teach."

"I can imagine. If you'll excuse me, I have some things to take care of before homeroom."

I knew the only way I could retain my composure decently enough to teach that day would be if I didn't think about Edward, and discussing him with my coworkers would not aid my effort. Thankfully, it was Friday, and once the school day was over, I could rejoin Edward at his parents' house.

His parents' house.

I sighed. Now it was just Esme's. I blinked back tears at the thought that Edward would never again come home to find his father waiting for him. I told myself to buck up. If Edward could eulogize his own father without losing his composure, surely I could get through my work day.

Seven hours later, I pulled into Esme's driveway. Spending the evening with her terrified me. Never in a million years had I thought my first encounter with Esme since reconciling with Edward would be under circumstances such as these. I would wallow in self-pity if the situation weren't entirely of my own making. Had I not let my fears get the better of me the Thanksgiving before last, I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life wondering if Carlisle entered eternity hating me. I turned off the engine of my car and closed my eyes. I silently promised Carlisle that although I was fairly certain I could never make up for the pain I'd caused Edward, I would spend the rest of my life trying.

Edward came out to meet me, and just as I stepped out of my car, pulled me into his arms.

"Are you hanging in there?" I asked with my face against his chest.

"What choice do I have? Thanks for coming. It means a great deal to me…to both of us."

Holding my hand, he led me through the back door. Somehow despite everything, Esme seemed genuinely happy to see me.

"I sent my sister home early," she explained. "I felt as if her presence was just prolonging the inevitable. There's comfort in routine. I just need to get back into mine and get accustomed to my new reality."

" I am so incredibly sorry."

"I know, Bella. Thank you."

"If there's anything I can do…"

"Edward seems determined to look out for me. Could you look out for him?"

I nodded.

"Good. He's being strong for me, but I know he's in a great deal of pain…"

I spent the afternoon with Edward and Esme. Because Mrs. Cope had worked more than twice her usual hours in the days leading up to the funeral, Edward sent her home. Grateful to be any help that I could, I cooked dinner and screened phone calls that came in for Esme on the land line. After Esme went to bed on Friday evening, I grabbed my purse and told Edward I'd be back first thing in the morning.

"You aren't staying?" He looked crushed.

"I will if you want me. I didn't want to presume."

"I want you."

"Then I'll stay. I should still run home and take care of a few things," I explained.

"Would you mind if I went with you? Taking a quick drive to clear my head is appealing."

"Okay."

We went out the back door and walked toward the Volvo. It was unusually warm for April. The night air, balmy against my face, was such a contrast to the stagnant grief inside the house. I closed my eyes and reveled in it, though I immediately felt guilty for doing so. When I opened my eyes, Edward was standing next to the open driver's side door. He gestured for me to get inside and handed me the keys.

"I'm just along for the ride."

I hesitantly took the keys from him. "You do realize…"

"I know." He walked over the passenger side and sat down. "In all the time we've known each other, I've never let you drive. If you'd ever decided to call me on it, I would have told you it was because your car was too unreliable. In actuality, I was being chauvinistic. I also very stupidly thought that you'd only see me as a man if I were the one driving."

"What changed since then?" I put my hand on the gear shift, and Edward covered it with his.

His eyes bore into mine as he spoke.

"Everything."

"I promise I'll be gentle," I whispered.

His lips formed a small smile. He knew that I wasn't talking about his car.

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at my house. I grabbed the mail and ran upstairs to throw a bag together.

"Did you just paint downstairs, or did you do work on the second floor as well?" Edward asked from the foot of the steps.

"That's right. Until this week, you hadn't been here in over a year. I've done work on all three floors, though the third floor isn't furnished yet," I answered as I threw my overnight bag onto my bed. "Jazz and Emmett actually did most of the intense labor for me. I'm so grateful to them. I could never have afforded contractors. They refinished the floors and skim coated the walls while Alice and I painted. You've never been on the third floor." I poked my head out of my bedroom and gestured him up the steps. "You should go take a look."

He climbed the steps and waited before ascending to the third floor.

"You can go up there by yourself. It's not like I'm hiding anything. I'll be done in a minute."

As Edward walked up to the third floor, I started to change out of my work clothes. I figured I could probably squeak another wear out of my dress if I hung it up now. If I crumbled it up into my overnight bag, it would definitely need to go to the cleaners. I kicked the door mostly shut and stepped out of my dress. I'd hung it in the closet and removed my bra before I heard Edward's voice.

"I had no idea you had two additional rooms up there." He poked his head in through the crack of the door and saw me standing there in my panties. I instinctively crossed my arms in front of my chest, waiting for him to step back into the hallway and close the door. He just continued to stare at me, making no move to leave my bedroom.

"Do you mind?" I asked finally.

"Not at all. Though it would be better for me if you dropped your arms to your side and did a little turn." He laughed and rotated his index finger.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'll meet you downstairs, Edward."

He sighed and retreated to my living room. As I pulled on my sweats, I replayed the way he looked at me when I was topless. There was something different about it which I couldn't quite identify. There was obvious lust in his eyes, though current celibacy notwithstanding, that was nothing new. I continued to ponder this, even after I zipped up my overnight bag and ran down the steps.

"I'm good," I said as I picked up my keys from on top of the piano bench.

"Oh, you were better than good."

"Get your mind out of the gutter. So, would like me to drive again?"

"If you'd like."

We were halfway to his house when I spoke again. "Do you remember when we were at the bris…" I began.

He nodded.

"When you left, you let Angela drive your car."

"I was very upset after seeing you, and she didn't think it would be wise for me to drive in that state. That's the reason she was there in the first place" to provide me with emotional support if I needed it."

"So, you've never been involved?"

"No," he confirmed. "She and her boyfriend from home are still very devoted to each other."

"Then how…" I stopped. I didn't want to admit that I'd eavesdropped on the two of them.

"Go on."

"I'd like to preface this by saying that I fully appreciate whatever you do sexually is none of my concern." I looked over at him to gauge his reaction.

He was smiling. "This should be good. Please continue."

I sighed. "I'm just curious as to what the two of you were doing in the powder room together?"

"Oh, that. We'd been standing in the hallway when you arrived. I wasn't mentally prepared to see you yet, so I ran into the powder room and pulled Angela with me."

"How does she know what your penis looks like?" I asked.

"What?"

"Okay, so I was listening in on your conversation. I'm not proud of this. Anyway, Angela made reference to the fact you're circumcised…"

"Right. Well, I am."

"How did she know that if you've never been more than friends?"

I don't think I'd ever heard Edward laugh so hard. "There's a story there, but it's not at all what you think. One night freshman year, Mike was being…well, Mike. He took pictures of his cock with my cell phone and sent them to all of the girls whose numbers he knew that lived in our residential college. Anyway, some were amused, some were appalled, and all of them thought it was a picture of me. Unable to live it down, I may have…er…whipped it out one night at a party to provide visible proof that the cock in question was not, in fact, mine. As you know, I am circumcised. Mike is not. Poor Angela was in the room for all this. You know, I should be annoyed that you felt territorial during a period in our relationship when you had absolutely no right to, but at the moment, I'm just too grateful to be laughing again. I thought I never would…"

It didn't bother me that his laughter came at my expense. I was too thankful to see him happy again.

When we arrived back at Edward's house, he carried my bag up the back steps to his room for me. I didn't follow him, instead standing in the hallway hesitantly.

"Just direct me to a guest room," I said finally.

"Oh." He looked incredibly disappointed. "I was kind of hoping you'd sleep in my room with me. I promise, I'll be a gentlemen. I'd just like to hold you, unless of course you mind…"

"I don't mind," I interrupted. I followed him into his bedroom and kicked off my shoes. I went to the bathroom and changed into shorts and a tank top. When I returned to his room, he was waiting for me in bed wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants. I climbed into bed next to him and settled myself into his embrace.

"I want you to know that this isn't about the comfort of female company as much as it is about the comfort of your company."

"I know, Edward."

"Do you?" He cupped my face in his hands and turned me to look at him.

I nodded. "Of course, it doesn't hurt that you also managed to see my tits today."

He laughed. "I would say that I'm sorry I walked in on you, but I'm not."

He closed his eyes, and I rested my head against his chest. Moments later he was asleep. As I stared at him in the dark, I finally realized what was different about his face when he'd walked in on me changing.

Edward hadn't blushed.


	43. Dawn

**chapter forty-two**

**dawn**

* * *

During the months we were apart, I often wondered how it would feel to wake up in Edward's arms. Every scenario I'd imagined involved intense passion or the blissful afterglow thereof, not the quiet feelings of home and comfort I experienced as I opened my eyes to find the man I loved sleeping beside me. I rested my face against his chest and reveled in his warmth, causing him to sigh and pull me tightly against him.

Well, hello there.

His blush may have been a thing of the past, but the hardness currently nestled against my thigh would indicate that he still began each day with an erection.

"Good morning," he whispered.

"Apparently." I gently rocked my hips against his.

He smiled as his fingers played in my hair. "Yes, well, that was to be expected. It just wants you to know that it misses you."

"It thinks?"

"Does it not have a head?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "So much for your promise to be a gentleman."

"It's there, and it's hard. It's not a big deal. Actually, that was a bad choice of words. It kind of _is _a big deal, if I do say so myself, but then again you already knew that."

I smacked him on the shoulder.

"What? So the cock made its presence known. It's not like I've asked you to do anything about it."

I wiggled out of his embrace.

"Wait, are you actually offended?" He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me. "You realize that erections are involuntary reactions, right? I couldn't control it if I wanted to."

Here I had dared to think that maybe he still found me arousing.

"Do you want to?"

"Do I want to what?"

"Control it."

"Honestly?" He shook his head. "No."

I looked into his eyes and tried to decipher his intentions. "Edward, I…"

Before I could even ascertain what was happening, his lips pressed against mine and his tongue swept inside my mouth. Seconds later, he rolled on top of me. I felt his erection press against the juncture of my thighs and gasped, at which point he deepened the kiss.

It was full of passion and longing. Somehow, it managed to convey to me a need which he'd left unspoken.

He traced my lower lip with his tongue before pulling away. As he looked down at me, his lips slowly formed a smile. He stroked my cheeks lazily with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

Fuck if I could remember.

"What was that?" I whispered breathlessly.

"That was a kiss."

"I know it was a kiss, but it seemed to just come out of nowhere."

"Did it?"

He was impossible.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely," he answered, laughing. "Come on, are you honestly surprised that I kissed you? I mean, the past seven months have been leading to this."

"No, I never thought you would…that we'd…" I stuttered nervously. "You said you weren't available to me that way."

"I'm not."

"Then why did you…gah!" I grunted in frustration. "I'm so incredibly confused right now."

"I meant that I don't want to be your sexual plaything."

"I don't see you that way."

"You don't now, but we both know you did."

The truth made me cringe.

"It doesn't bother me anymore. Besides, in all fairness to you, I'm equally culpable. I wanted you so badly I was willing to take you any way I could have you, even if it meant my own objectification and detriment."

I moved my face to the side to avoid his gaze.

"Wanted," I repeated, muttering into my pillow. "You're speaking in the past tense."

"Bella, look at me."

I slowly turned to look at him.

"I still love you. I still want you more than I can express, but I think it's fairly obvious that our relationship in its previous incarnation was destined to fail. It was intense and passionate and whereas both of those things are integral, it takes so much more than that to make a relationship last. I know better now. I sacrificed so many of my ideals thinking that I could change you, that my love could somehow heal you and make you whole. It was incredibly naïve of me. When you broke up with me, you told me you weren't capable of love. Despite your subsequent insistence to the contrary, I think that was in fact true."

"It may have been at the time, but it isn't anymore. The past week has shown me that. At the funeral, when you were talking about your favorite memories of your father…"

I stopped, unsure if this was something he was able to talk about. He nodded, and I continued.

"I can't remember a word you said. It didn't register. I was too emotionally connected to you. Edward, I felt actual physical pain for you. There was a tight ache in my chest and it became hard for me to breathe." My eyes began to fill at the memory.

"I noticed you were crying."

"I was? That didn't even register to me. I did notice that you weren't, that somehow you managed to retain your composure. I knew on the inside you were screaming. I realized at that moment how much my feelings for you had changed. Self-preservation be damned. I would have sacrificed myself to ease your pain, even if only for a moment."

He clenched his eyes shut. "I know, Bella. I know."

"I _am_ capable of love. I just didn't always know what it was."

I reached up ran my fingers through his hair. He shimmied his body a bit closer to the foot of the bed and laid his head against my cotton-covered breast.

"I can hear your heart." He tapped his fingers against my shoulder replicating its rhythm. "My father used to always tell me life was a gift. I just never realized how quickly it could end. I spoke to him on the phone earlier that day…the day of the accident. The last words I said to him were 'I love you.'" He let out a small, humorless laugh. "Mike was in the room at the time and called me a pussy."

I rolled my eyes. "Mike would."

"Yes, well, he later apologized. I told my dad I loved him nearly every time I spoke with him. So did my mom. Growing up, I'd never thought there was anything unique about it. We were just always like that as a family…very demonstrative when it came to affection. I asked my dad about it once when I realized that not every family was like ours. He said that from the time they were dating, he and my mom never ended a conversation without an 'I love you,' and this didn't change when I entered the equation. They did this consistently even in the midst of intense arguments."

"I can't imagine your parents fighting."

"Are you kidding?" This time his laugh was genuine. "You're talking about two very passionate people, one of whom is incredibly stubborn."

"I never thought of your father as stubborn."

"He wasn't. My mother, on the other hand…you can't imagine."

"Oh, I have a fairly decent idea. So let's see. You got your mother's hair, eyes, and disposition." I feigned a moment of realization. "It all makes sense now."

"Go ahead. Mock me while I'm bereaved."

His laughter indicated he wasn't serious.

"I was partially joking."

"Sure you were. Anyway, they had their share of arguments. All marriages do. My mom would end phone conversations with my dad by saying things like, 'I'm furious and would smack the shit out of you if you were standing in front of me right now, but I still love you more than life itself.'"

"Somehow, I have no problem visualizing your mother saying this."

"Well, you've seen how intense she can be. My point is that they never took the other one for granted, never stopped telling each other how much they were cherished. My mom has said repeatedly that this is her only source of comfort right now, besides the fact that my brother is no longer alone. At least my father never doubted how much we loved him."

There was so much I wanted to ask Edward —about the brother he'd never mentioned until now, about his mother and how she was really holding up, and if Carlisle died hating me. One question, however, eclipsed all others.

"Why did you kiss me earlier?"

"I'm tired of pretending that I'm not still in love with you." He lifted his head off my chest and rolled away from me. I turned onto my side and faced him, and he propped himself up on one elbow. "Our first attempt at a romantic relationship didn't work because it wasn't a joining of equals based on mutual admiration and respect. I thought it was in the beginning. I've since realized that it only seemed as if you were treating me as your equal because I was comparing it to how other teachers addressed me. Unlike most other adults, you didn't immediately disregard my intellect because of my age. Still, the moment I declared my love for you, you began to trivialize my feelings."

"I did trivialize you, but it wasn't because of your age."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying. Obviously, it was partially to do with your age. Though since I've spent nearly two years in therapy, I know there were other issues at work. Mainly, I was incapable of believing that you loved me because I didn't love myself."

His lips formed a small smile. "You're speaking in the past tense."

"I am, indeed."

Edward reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

As much as we'd said, we'd still yet to redefine ourselves.

"So what now?" I asked.

"I'd like to kiss you again."

"I won't object, but I would like to know what to expect when we come up for air."

"I suppose we should get showered and dressed and check on my mom. As much as I'd like to spend all day in bed with you, it's just not practical."

"No, I meant with regard to us."

"I told you I didn't want a reconciliation, and that remains true. It just wouldn't work. We're both too different from who we were. However, if you are so inclined, I would like to date you, but this time proceed very slowly."

An idiotic grin formed on my face. "I'm fine with slow."

"Are you sure you aren't going to drop your dress after our first date? Because if you did that to me now, I don't think I'd be able to resist the urge to fuck you senseless. As much as we'd both enjoy that, moving too fast physically isn't in our best interest."

"I promise to keep my clothes on. Though speaking of nudity, last night you did see me in my underwear and somehow managed to restrain yourself."

"You have no idea what that did to me. It's been so long since I had your nipples. I wanted to taste them…" His gaze trailed down my torso and settled on my hardened nipples, barely concealed by my white tank top. "I'm willing to wait though." His eyes met mine as he sighed. "May I kiss you?"

I nodded, and seconds later his lips pressed against mine. Just as they had earlier, as his lips moved against mine, they spoke silently of passion and longing.

This time, they also spoke of hope.


	44. The True Artist Helps the World

**chapter forty-three**

**the true artist helps the world by revealing mystic truth**

* * *

I would never understand Edward's obsession with surprises. Much like our original first date, he refused to tell me in advance where we were going. That being said, the similarities ended there. I didn't agonize over my clothing choices and instead settled almost immediately on a simple black sheath and heels. Prior to his arrival, I was not overcome with nervousness by the idea of what was to come. I felt at peace with where we were. This time, we would succeed or fail based on our compatibility, not my personal issues.

He arrived at six o'clock on the dot bearing a bouquet of white, orange and lilac roses. After I placed them in a vase with water, he kissed my cheek. He helped me with my coat, and in and out of his car. While we were at the restaurant, he held my hand from across the table. Our conversation during the meal was light and playful. After bringing me home, he walked me to my door where in true first-date fashion, there was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke.

"I had a wonderful time tonight."

I started laughing hysterically.

"What?"

"You're acting as if we haven't done all this before. I'm sorry; the typical, first-date, walk-me-to-my-door routine feels contrived under the circumstances."

"Maybe," he admitted. "Still, I'd rather not take anything for granted. That being said, I enjoyed myself immensely, and I'd like to see you again."

I was still giggling when I answered him. "I'd like that."

I didn't care if it _was _contrived, his responding smile made me melt.

"May I kiss you?" he asked.

"I'd like that, too."

He cupped my face in his hands and gently pressed his lips against mine. Like our first kiss so long ago, It was short and chaste. It also made me want to take him upstairs and ravish him.

Sadly, I now knew better.

"So," I began. "Now that we're…wait, what are we doing, exactly?"

He looked at me confusedly. "Dating?"

"Dating," I repeated. "Is that really what you would call this?"

"Were we not just out on a date?"

"We were, but it seems somehow more…significant than that."

"Do you feel as if you need a more specific title?"

"That's just it. I don't feel as though I have a title at all, therefore it seems a bit off to be requesting a more accurate one."

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" he asked teasingly.

"This isn't the eighth grade, Edward. I would, however, like to know if I'm the only woman you're currently seeing."

He threw back his head and laughed. "Listen to you, bringing up exclusivity on the very first date. What happened to your intense fear of commitment?"

"Let's just say there are other things that scare me more. However, I do feel as though I am entitled to some answers from you before I decide if I would like to pursue this any further."

"Am I right to assume, despite your previous statement that you would indeed like to go out with me again, that a second date is in fact contingent upon my responses to your imminent queries?"

"That would be correct."

He shrugged. "Ask away."

I pushed my front door open. "Would you mind coming in for a bit? This could take a while."

"Should I be nervous?"

I smiled sweetly. "That all depends on you." He followed me inside, where I removed my coat and kicked off my shoes. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Whatever you're having is fine."

I gestured for him to have a seat on the sofa and went into the kitchen to pour us both a glass of wine. When I came back into the living room, his jacket was off, and he was sitting on the edge of the couch. I placed his glass in front of him, and sat opposite him.

"So…" I twirled my wine glass by its stem. "I know as of Christmas you weren't seeing anyone…"

"And now I'm seeing you."

"Am I the only person you're seeing?"

"Yes."

My relief was palpable.

"What else would you like to know?" he asked, sipping his wine.

"Why did it take you three months to respond to my email? You've never been one for indecision."

"It wasn't indecision." He leaned against the arm of the couch so he was now facing me. "Bella, I don't mind telling you this, but I should warn you that you're probably not going to like what you hear."

"I can handle it."

"When I got your message, I made a conscious decision not to do anything."

"You decided not to decide? How very Stephen Sondheim of you."

"I'm serious. I was seeing someone at the time, and whereas I hated the idea of not replying to you, I didn't feel that a correspondence with you was fair to her."

"Oh," I said, swallowing. Though I'd suspected as much, it didn't make hearing it any more palatable. "Would this be the person you mentioned at the diner? Kate, I believe?"

"Yes."

"You weren't being melodramatic when you said it was complicated."

"No." He sighed. "We were together for about seven months. I began dating her even though I knew I wasn't over you. Kate and I were in the same social circle and it was easy…comfortable. She knew I'd been through a bad break-up and even joked she was my rebound fling. She never asked more of me than I was able to give her, and I naïvely thought that with time and patience, I'd fall in love with her. Finally in September, she told me she was falling in love with me. I knew I was doing her a huge disservice. It was one thing when I thought we were both having a bit of fun, but I couldn't let myself…" He paused as if putting great thought into his next words. "I couldn't allow myself to do to her what you'd done to me. Instead of telling her that I returned her feelings, I explained to her why I didn't feel I ever could. I told her everything—how we met, how quickly things developed between us, and how it all fell apart. Finally, I told her about the email you'd sent me over the summer, and that despite how much I wished otherwise, I was still very much in love with you."

She'd been my rival for Edward's affections, and yet I found myself feeling sorry for her. "How did she respond to that?"

"As well as could be expected. She said she appreciated my honesty and had suspected for quite some time that my heart wasn't in it. Ultimately, she convinced me not to waste any more time. She said I was being stubborn and immature, and I owed it to myself to find out if what you'd said in your email was true."

"So, when I saw you at the diner…"

"Kate and I had ended our relationship roughly forty-eight hours prior to that evening. I don't feel as if I led her on, but it was still wrong of me to become involved with her when my emotions were still elsewhere. I suppose dating several girls casually would have been more responsible, but it's just not me. At the time we began seeing each other, I genuinely believed a future with you was not an option."

Whoa.

"What?"

"When you broke up with me, you told me our relationship was purely physical on your end. At the time, I believed you."

"How could you think I meant that?"

"It fit. Do you remember how you responded to me the first time I told you I loved you? You fell to your knees and tried to open my pants, no doubt thinking that I wouldn't realize you didn't say it back if my cock was in your mouth."

"Well, in all fairness to me, the first time I gave you head you _did_ forget your own name."

"Wait, are you admitting I'm right?"

"No, you're completely wrong."

He laughed. "Care to enlighten me as to what your motivation was?"

I leaned against the couch and sighed. "I've honestly never thought about it until now. In the moment, it just seemed like the right thing to do."

"It's never come up in therapy?"

"Not that specific instance, no."

"Huh. Interesting. It has for…well…never mind." He took another swig of wine.

I thought back to the night in question. "In retrospect, I can see how you would've interpreted it as such. I really just wanted to give you something in return, and I didn't feel comfortable saying the words. They're still hard for me to say."

"Well, that was the first of many instances, but we don't need to rehash it. I only mentioned this to you so you'd understand what state my mind was in at the diner."

"You do realize I didn't consciously objectify you, right? I'm not trying to make excuses for myself, but in every way that mattered, it was my first time, too."

"I know." He brushed my cheek with his thumb. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

"Are you kidding? I could keep you here for hours."

"I wouldn't mind, but I should get home to my mom."

I felt so selfish. "I'm sorry. How is she?"

"Remarkably well, all things considered. She maintains that she was incredibly lucky to have had my father for the time that she did, and though she's lonely, she still feels blessed."

"Your mother is quite possibly the most amazing person I've ever known. I know where you get your strength."

Edward shrugged. "It's ironic, isn't it? Everyone places such value on emotional strength, stupidly hoping to rely upon it in times of agony never realizing agony is what makes a person strong. My mother lost a baby to SIDS. She knows pain. She also knows my father would want us to go on living. She is strong. Meanwhile, I'm angrier than I can express. I lost my father, but that was given. Sure, it happened to me tragically early, but burying our parents is the natural way of things. My mother has now buried her father, her son, and the love of her life. I know you meant it as a compliment, but please don't trivialize her strength by comparing it to mine. I don't have her strength, nor can I begin to understand her pain. I'm selfish enough to hope that I never do."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean–"

"It's okay. Really." He stood up. "I'm sorry to end our evening like this. Please forgive my outburst. You know, my dad waited up for me after our first date. I'd told him not to, but he ignored me."

I got up and handed him his jacket. "I can just imagine that conversation."

Edward smiled. "It was mortifying. He took one look at me and asked me if we used protection."

I rolled my eyes. "I _knew_ he thought I was a slut."

"Bella, no. He loved you."

I put my arm around his waist as I walked him to the door. "Do you think he would approve of this?"

"I know he would. He's only ever wanted my happiness." He rested his hands on my shoulders. "You make me happy."

I pulled his face to mine and pressed my lips to his. When my tongue entered his mouth, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly against him.

He broke the kiss and whispered in my ear. "Soon."

I nodded my understanding. As much as I wanted him, I didn't want to repeat past mistakes.

He stepped onto my porch and gave my hand a quick squeeze. "Dinner again tomorrow?"

"I'd like that."

"I'll call you in the morning."

I watched his car pull out of my driveway. The night was cool and clear, and when I looked away from the city skyline, I could make out a handful of stars. I wasn't certain I believed in an after-life, but somehow, I thought he would hear me.

"I love you, too, Carlisle. Thank you…for everything."

Late was better than never.


	45. Mother of Sorrows

**chapter forty-four**

**mother of sorrows**

* * *

"Thank you for helping me do this. I didn't want to trouble Edward, and I didn't think I could do it alone."

As I followed Esme up the front stairs of her house, I realized I'd never been to this part of the second floor. I stopped in the hallway, distracted by what appeared to be a genuine Picasso.

She noticed me staring. "Carlisle was a huge fan of Cubism. Jack and Kitty gave us that painting when we had John."

I shrugged. "Isn't that sort of a strange baby gift? I mean, when Rose had David I bought her a Kate Spade diaper bag, and I thought that was kind of extravagant."

"It was an interesting moment for me. I think I had been in denial until that point. I thought I'd had a decent idea what kind of family I'd married into, nothing prepared me for the Picasso."

"Was it a passive-aggressive way of suggesting a nursery theme?"

Esme laughed. "No. In Jack's mind, it was a practical gift. So many of his father's contemporaries put bullets in their heads on Black Tuesday. The paintings were meant to be an insurance policy of sorts. If the shit ever hit the fan, if for whatever reason we couldn't get to our assets, he fully expects us to hawk the art."

I tried to wrap my mind around how much the painting in front of me was worth. I'd never thought owning fine art was attainable enough to research the cost. For me, it wasn't.

"Huh."

"I know. I've been…er…was married to Carlisle for twenty-three years, and it still seems like he's from some sort of alternate universe. Thankfully, his values were a bit different from those of his parents. Jack gave us the John Sloan as well." She gestured over her shoulder. "It was for Edward. I'm not sure if he became interested in the Ashcan School because he had this, or if it was just a lucky pick on Jack's part. Who knows? Maybe John would have liked Picasso."

Esme's voice wavered slightly on her last sentence, and her hand flew up to her eyes. I walked across the hall and hugged her.

"I'm so sorry."

"I know." She took a step back and I dropped my arms as she wiped her eyes. "I'll stop crying eventually, if for no other reason than I know Carlisle is pissed off that I'm wallowing. At some point, we'll end up in the same place, wherever that is, and he'll give me hell."

I was in complete awe of her. I wondered how long her anger phase lasted, if she'd even had one at all.

She straightened her shoulder and moved down the hall, gesturing me to come along. I tentatively followed her into her bedroom.

Like Edward's, it was a beautifully decorated suite. Carlisle's personal effects, however, were omnipresent. In his tragic absence, they were somehow giving the room a life of its own. No wonder Esme was intimidated.

"Are you sure you don't feel weird helping me?"

I shook my head. "Not if you don't feel weird with me being here."

"No. You know I think of you as family. I have since that first weekend down the shore."

I knew it wasn't the time, but I still felt I needed to try to explain it to her. "About what happened at Thanksgiving–"

"I know all about that." She shook her head dismissively. "Survival instinct works in strange ways, doesn't it? If Thanksgiving the year before last had been a cocktail, it would be two parts fear to one part self-preservation, shaken and served cold, garnished with shame and chased with a shot of regret."

"My regret would need its own distillery."

"I know. Edward doesn't hold it against you. He just doesn't want to go through it again. You needed time to heal. So does he."

"I'm so sorry I hurt him. I've gone over it again and again in my head. I've tried to rationalize it by telling myself that he deserved to experience college unencumbered. In actuality, I was being incredibly selfish. I knew it would end sooner or later, and that he'd leave me. I thought I'd be able to cope with it better if it happened on my own terms. Even if Edward eventually forgives me, I don't know that I will ever be able to forgive myself."

"I'm not going to lie to you. Your actions hurt Edward a great deal. Even though I had a fairly good understanding of why you acted the way you did, I was never able to make Edward understand. He was absolutely certain that you never loved him."

"I still don't know how he could have believed me."

"How could he not have? At that point, Edward had lived a fairly charmed life. Granted, he didn't identify much with his peers but Carlisle compensated a bit for that. He wasn't capable of truly understanding why you were panicking."

Her words stabbed me.

"And because of me, now he does," I muttered bitterly.

"I'm not trying to guilt trip you, but yes, you forever changed his perspective. Edward is an incredible romantic. Despite our warnings to the contrary, he quite naively assumed that true love conquered all. He knew you'd been hurt and thought his love could make you whole, despite our constant warning that you needed to come to terms with your issues on your own. As awful as it was to see Edward suffer, Carlisle and I both understood it was inevitable. What I didn't understand was why you never called me during your time apart. I'd always thought we had a relationship independent of the one you have with my son."

"I wanted to call you. I missed you terribly. I just didn't think you'd want to hear from me."

She reached over and squeezed my hands. "Please believe me when I say this to you. In many ways, I think of you as the daughter I never had. No matter what happens with you and Edward, you will always have your own place in my life. However, I'm warning you right now, if you fuck it all up again, I'm not going to be quite so understanding."

I threw my arms around her. "I love you, Esme."

"I love you, too." She stepped out of my embrace, looked around her bedroom, and sighed. "My sister wanted to do this for me, but when she was here I wasn't ready. I still don't think I am. Somehow boxing up Carlisle's things seems more final than lowering him into the ground."

"You don't have to do this, Esme. It's still so soon…"

"It's rapidly becoming a shrine. Surrounded by his things, it's far too easy for me to pretend he's coming home, that he's just working a long shift at the hospital. It's going to hurt, but it will be far worse if I wait. I have this intense fear of postponing this indefinitely, eventually causing this room to turn into the West Wing of Manderley."

"I don't think you have any risk of that. You're mourning your spouse, not your employer with whom you had a bizarre homo-erotic obsession."

She let out a small laugh. "I suppose. Regardless, it's unhealthy. I would know. Do you know what the worst part of all of this has been?"

I shook my head. I couldn't imagine.

"Pity," she continued. "I am so fucking sick of being pitied."

"I'm sure everyone means well. It's just hard to know what to say–"

"Intellectually, I understand that very few people are comfortable with the concept of mortality. They take a look at me and think I've gone through the two most painful things imaginable, though the jury is hung as to whether it's worse to lose a spouse or a child. Every time I venture out of the house, I hear the whispers. It's only been two weeks, and it's already gotten old. Sympathy cards are particularly obnoxious. You have drawings of white lilies or other similarly somber flowers and some trite rhyming verse written for Hallmark by an out of work poet, or maybe the 23rd Psalm. People sign their names and send them out of obligation, people who knew Carlisle well and claimed to love him. Lifelong friendships are reduced to a signature on a mass-produced piece of stationary. I don't want sympathy. I don't even feel sorry for myself."

I was dumbfounded. "How can you not?"

"Life is precious, but it's something we've all been given. Love, however, is rare. Not only was I lucky enough to have it, I had it for over twenty years. Everything ends eventually, but that's what gives it value. Obviously, I'd rather have him with me, but there's nothing I can do about that. Ironically, I feel as though the most sincere words have come from people who don't know me. His patients —men and women who were under general anesthesia during the majority of their time with him —have sent me letters. Beautiful, heartfelt letters about how Carlisle helped them. Those I cherish."

As usual, I was in awe of her.

"How would you like me to help?"

She gestured to a stack of Rubbermaid totes in the corner. "Could you bring me one of those?"

I picked the top one up and followed Esme through a pair of double doors into an enormous walk-in closet. She walked over to a row of men's shirts and took them off the rod in a single movement, the dropped them into the Rubbermaid tote.

"We'll need all the totes in here to fit everything. I have someone from a homeless shelter coming to pick it all up this afternoon. I was amazed they were willing to come out, being that it's Good Friday, but they are so desperate for the donations. I'm giving them all of his clothing. I have a mental image of a man who has been down on his luck going to a job interview in one of Carlisle's Savile Row suits. I know that would make him so proud. Here's hoping there's a guy at the shelter who hangs to the same side as Carlisle."

"Huh?"

"When a man has a suit custom made, it's very specific. There's extra room in one leg for…well…you know."

I stared at the suits in disbelief. "Wait. They cut the pants to fit the peen?"

Esme giggled. "Yes, they do."

"How do they know how much fabric is needed?"

"They ask, and they measure. The first time I witnessed this, I laughed hysterically. Carlisle was mortified, and has since banned me from shopping with him in London. I guess the ban has been lifted. Too bad I hate to shop."

I began to work along Esme, packing everything up. She stopped me when I reached a bizarre orange and black jacket.

"Not this."

I took a second look at it. Princeton Class of 1986.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize what it was until just now."

"He'd already ordered his new one. Are you familiar with the tradition?"

I shook my head. "Edward mentioned it once, but he didn't go into detail."

"Princeton alumni get new P-Rade costumes every five years. Each class year has a theme, and they dress up. They march through campus and congratulate each other on ruling the world. This beer jacket is from his 20th Reunion. The first time I went to P-Rade, the weather report called for severe storms. Carlisle insisted that God doesn't rain on his own parade, and when the time came to march, the weather would be perfect. Of course, the sky opened up, and it hailed. It was hilarious, and the last time Carlisle ever made a bet with God.

"You know, as an outsider, P-Rade is kind of an amazing thing to watch. The Old Guard marches, and these guys are in their nineties. You see the occasional woman marching alone in a man's jacket tailored to fit her. This confused me, because I knew Princeton didn't accept women until fairly recently. Carlisle explained to me that it's traditional for widows to march on behalf of their husbands. I didn't understand it at the time, and the feminist in me was somewhat repulsed. I pitied them, thinking that they must not have any of their own milestones to celebrate. Anyway, I stopped going to these things when Edward became old enough to accompany Carlisle. I'd make an appearance at the tents at some point each weekend, but I let P-Rade be a father/son bonding ritual. Carlisle's 25th Reunion is this year. I know he was looking forward to marching as a family, since Edward is now a student there. Instead, I'll be marching as a widow…" Esme began to sob quietly. "I'm fine. Really. Anyway, everything but this can go. I know Edward will want this."

I finished emptying the closet as Esme stood clutching Carlisle's beer jacket. It occurred to me that Sunday was Easter, and it would be her first holiday without her husband.

"What are you doing Sunday?" I asked.

"Nothing. Jack and Kitty wanted to come by, but I told them I wasn't up for a visit. I really meant that I wasn't up for a visit from Jack and Kitty." She laughed despite the fact she was still crying.

"I was planning on cooking for Jasper and Alice. I would love it if you and Edward joined us. If you don't mind slumming, you'll find I put out a fairly decent spread."

"Your house is hardly slumming. You should see where I grew up." She sighed. "That's a story for another time. Anyway, I graciously accept your invitation. Let me know what I can bring."

I didn't even have to think about it.

"Your son."

"Oh, I suspect I wouldn't be able to keep him away from you if I tried. Is there anything you'd like me to bring?"

I wanted to tell her not to trouble herself, but realized that if she was offering, she probably wanted the distraction.

"Does your family have any dishes that you consider part of your traditions?"

"Not really, unless you consider Kitty's flask food." She rolled her eyes.

"How about some appetizers? Whatever you would enjoy making I'm sure will be perfect."

"I have a few ideas. Thank you for both the invitation and letting me cook. It will feel so good to actually do something. I may be in mourning, but I'm not useless."

"I would never think that of you."

And I couldn't. She was quite possibly the most amazing woman I'd ever known.

I sealed the lid on the last tote. "So what now?"

"That's pretty much it. We shared a study, and Edward will make use of his medical books, so I don't feel compelled to sort the contents of that room. I should go to Mass, but I'm not ready to be in a church again. Still, I'd kind of like to get out of the house. I want desperately to laugh again."

"Do you have to wait for the person from the shelter to come?"

"No. Mrs. Cope can let him in. Why?"

"I'm taking you out. Friday night, Bella style. Wear comfortable shoes. We'll be walking a bit. I'll call Edward and have him meet us."

"As long as I'm not your charity case…"

"Are you kidding? Alice is going to be ecstatic. She's wanted to hang out with you for ages. Okay, I'm off to call Edward."

I turned to leave the room, and Esme called out to me.

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For everything."

"It's not a big deal. Really." I smiled and ran down the steps to call Edward.

Maybe I could finally get something right.


	46. The City

**chapter forty-five**

**the city**

* * *

"You used to do this every Friday?" Esme asked as we climbed the steps of the Art Museum.

"Just about. When I moved out of the city, I started coming with less regularity, but this was my weekly ritual."

"Fine art and cheap beer? That's quite a combination."

I laughed. "Actually, hanging out at McGillin's doesn't seem as mind-numbing when it's a chaser to a more cerebral activity."

After we went inside, I flashed my membership card at the front desk and took out my debit card to pay for Esme. She gestured for me to put it away, and leaned in to speak to the Museum employee.

"I don't have my membership information with me, but I believe we are technically members. Would you be able to look it up for me?"

The attendant nodded, and Esme proceeded to give her the pertinent information. When she located Esme in the computer, her eyes widened.

"Thank you, Dr. Masen. Would you like to be accompanied by a docent? If you're coming to visit the works you've donated, she would be able to escort you directly to them. Sometimes locations change and it isn't always easy to find what you'd like to see."

Wait, did she just say works you've donated? As in Esme?

Whoa.

"I don't think that's necessary, but thank you. My friend here is more than capable of providing me with any guidance I may need."

"Enjoy your visit, Dr. Masen, and feel free to stay for Art After 5. Tonight we're featuring a jazz ensemble."

"Thank you." Esme stepped away from the desk, gesturing for me to follow her.

"You're a donor?"

She shrugged. "Something like that."

"Edward never mentioned it."

"Good boy. I would hope we raised him better than to try to use his wealth to impress women."

We walked through the European Art exhibition, and our conversation never lulled.

"I used to come here to think," I explained. "None of my friends are really the museum types, so I didn't have to worry about anyone asking if they could join me. I'd spend the afternoon visiting my favorite pieces, and then have a glass of wine or two while listening to whatever live music was being featured. I think the Art Museum was the only place where I could be by myself for hours, and not feel weird about being out alone. Then I met Edward, and it became our special place."

"When you first met, were you honestly not aware that Edward was a high-school student?"

I stopped walking and looked at Esme.

"I don't mean to interrogate you, and I apologize if it came out that way. I've just always been curious, and until now I never felt comfortable asking."

"Initially, no. But to be fair to Edward, he more or less came clean within the first thirty seconds. He introduced himself with the assumption that I would recognize his name and know that he was a student where I taught. He was correct. His reputation preceded him, and I found myself in the company of the boy whom veteran teachers claimed had the greatest mind they'd ever encountered. I think that's why I continued speaking to him after I knew. In the beginning, I found him intriguing. As the evening progressed, we talked about everything from music to how it feels to be different. His perspective was fascinating. I could have easily spent all night just talking to him.

"After that first night, I went out of my way to avoid him. The attraction was intense, and I thought the best way to handle it would be to remove myself from temptation. The day after he graduated, he asked me out on a date."

Even though we were walking, my eyes kept darting back to Esme. It didn't appear as if anything I'd said upset her. I decided to seize my opportunity.

"Since we're being completely honest, I have a question for you."

She let out a small laugh. "Fair is fair."

"Our disastrous first meeting notwithstanding, were you always as approving of my relationship with Edward as you appeared to be?"

She was now laughing in earnest, and in a gesture strikingly similar to Edward's, pushed her hair off her shoulder. I was so thankful to see her smile, I didn't care that it probably was at my expense.

"No," she said finally, "though not because of your age. The night we met, though I may have questioned your intentions, I was very impressed with how you handled yourself. I liked you almost immediately, and began to feel attached to you when you came to our shore house for the Fourth of July. You seemed like a lost child, and you were noticeably uncomfortable around simple familial intimacy. When Carlisle or I praised you, you acted as if you were in pain. I realized that your parents' apparent disinterest in you still affected you a great deal, and I had serious doubts about your ability to have a functional relationship with anyone. Edward, though wise beyond his years, was still so incredibly naïve. I knew it wouldn't end well. As a parent, you want to protect your child from everything, but you can't. We all have our hearts broken at one point or another; that kind of pain is inevitable. As sad as it is, it's part of growing up."

She reached over and squeezed my hand. "I haven't upset you, have I?"

"No. I'm just amazed at your level of perception."

"I'm a shrink, and I'm damned good at what I do."

"Apparently."

I stopped walking when I realized we were right in front of the peepholes. "Have you ever been back there?" I gestured to the dark corner.

"No. Is there more to see? I always assumed this was the end of the gallery."

I stared at her in disbelief. "So you're a patron–"

"Technically, Carlisle is a benefactor."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Semantics. You get your own docent, and you never took them up on it?"

She shook her head. "No, though I know Carlisle and Edward have. What's back there? It has to be something dirty, or they wouldn't have it so tucked away."

My cheeks heated up the moment I realized I was about to look at erotica with my pseudo-boyfriend's mother.

"Are you blushing?" Esme began to giggle.

"There you are." Edward kissed Esme on the cheek before coming over to me. He placed the back of his hand against my face. "Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed."

"She's fine," Esme interjected. "Just embarrassed."

Edward's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized me. "You're blushing?"

I nodded.

He pulled me against him, laughing. "I didn't know you could blush. Here all it took was showing my mom the mixed media I used to seduce you."

"What?" Esme asked.

"Wait, Bella didn't tell you? I assumed that was the cause of her apparent mortification."

Esme shook her head, then disappeared behind the wall.

Moments later, we heard her slightly muffled cry. "Oh my God."

"I guess she found the peepholes."

Laughing, Edward pressed his lips against mine, taking advantage of his mother's absence. After a moment, I nudged him away. As much as I wanted to kiss him, I did not want an audience.

"Okay," Esme said when she reappeared. "I'm kind of feeling like a failure as a parent right now. In what alternate universe is it acceptable for a sixteen-year-old boy to show something like that to one of his teachers?"

"For the record, I was seventeen, and I had graduated."

Esme rolled her eyes. "What, like twelve hours prior?"

Edward laughed. "Something like that."

"How did you even know that was back there?" she asked. "I've been here more times than I can count, and I've never seen it."

"Dad," he said, shrugging.

"Why am I not surprised?" Esme laughed, shaking her head. "So, did he show this to you before or after he bought you the porn stash?"

"After." Edward cleared this throat. "I didn't know you knew about that–"

"I didn't know about that," I interrupted. "But it sounds like a great story."

"There is no story," Edward insisted.

"But your father bought you porn," I repeated in disbelief. "That's epic."

"Fine. Here's the story. Once upon a time, my father bought me porn. The end. Who would like a glass of wine? They were about to start serving when I came in."

I turned to Esme. "You've more than earned it, but we only have time for one. We have to make it to McGillin's before the bouncer gets there. After a certain point, they start to card at the door. Edward has graciously agreed to be our designated driver, so just kick back and have fun."

Esme grasped my hand in one of hers and Edward's in the other. "In case I forget to tell you later, thank you. I truly appreciate what you're trying to do for me. Both of you."

We made our way back to the Great Stair Hall. Esme and I each had a glass of wine and listened to the jazz ensemble's first set before leaving for McGillan's. Alice and Jasper were waiting at our usual table. When she saw us approaching, she leapt up from her chair and threw her arms around Esme.

"I'm so sorry…" Alice began.

She stopped talking when she saw me shake my head and silently mouth the word, "Don't."

Her tone of voice went from morose to more drinking. "…we already ordered a pitcher. I hope that's okay. It didn't occur to me that you may not like lager." Alice looked over Esme's shoulder at me and I gave her the thumbs up.

Jasper rose and extended his hand to Esme. "Nice to see you again, Dr. Masen."

"Please, call me Esme. I feel old enough being the token mother."

"Why?" Jasper asked. "It's not like you're old enough to be_our_ mother."

"Thanks for the sentiment, but I know you're full of shit." She sat beside Alice and picked up a menu just as our regular waitress arrived with our pitcher.

She placed it on the table and smiled. "Bella! I haven't seen you in a while."

"I know. I haven't been out much. I'd like to introduce you to my friends, Edward and Esme."

"Nice meeting you. Are all of you drinking?" she asked.

"No, just Esme and me. Edward's driving."

"Good deal," she said before turning to Esme. "I'm going to need to see some ID."

Alice and I started cheering as Esme produced her driver's license.

The waitress did a double take as she looked at the date and then looked at Esme. "Damn, girl." She handed the license back to Esme. "So what'll it be?"

As she went around the table taking food orders, Edward poked me under the table.

I turned to him and whispered. "What?"

"Now I'm your friend?"

"That's what you said you wanted to be."

"I said that months ago. Is that how you still think of me? I suppose it's an improvement over lover, though I wouldn't mind being both, and maybe a few other things as well." He trailed his hand up my thigh, but stopped shy of the Promised Land.

It was just as well. Our moment had not gone unnoticed. Our server's voice cut through my Edward-induced haze.

"Do you two need to get a room? Because there's no private party going on upstairs right now. If you're quick, no one will notice."

I smiled despite the fact I was embarrassed. "I think we can restrain ourselves, though it seems I misspoke earlier. Esme is family, and Edward is the love of my life. Meanwhile, I'd like onion rings and a tequila shot. I'm going to need all the liquid courage I can get if I'm going to get up and sing later."

Esme looked at me in shock, the significance of my declaration eclipsed by her horror. "You brought me to karaoke?" She turned to the waitress. "Make that two tequila shots."

Edward looked at his mother in disbelief. "Are you planning on singing?"

Esme smiled. "Let's just say I'm keeping my options open."

The evening wore on, a celebration of friendship, life, and off-key singing. As much as I wanted to be alone with Edward, it was wonderful to see Esme enjoy herself. By the time Edward walked me to my door, it was already well into Saturday morning.

He stood with me on my porch as I fumbled with my keys, and followed me inside my living room.

"I want to stay more than anything. I'm just not comfortable leaving my mother alone over night yet. I hope you understand."

"Of course. I'm not in a hurry."

"When you clarified my significance to you, were you serious?"

Because of his under-the-table grope fest, I decided he deserved to be teased.

"Absolutely. If I learned anything today, it's that your mother is indeed my family."

He groaned in frustration.

"Oh, you mean what I said about you?" I leaned into him and kissed his throat. "I meant that, too."

Almost instantly, I felt his tongue against my lips and his hands against my face. I pressed myself against him, wordlessly trying to convince him of my sincerity. I then remembered Esme was waiting in the car. I tapped him on the shoulder and broke the kiss.

"Your mother is waiting."

"I know." He sighed, hugging me tightly. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome. Always."

"I'm starting to believe that." He opened my front door and stepped onto my porch. "Good night. I'll call you when I wake up."

I waved to Esme as their car pulled out of my driveway. As I crept upstairs to bed, I had an overwhelming feeling of gratitude.

I was alive, and I was loved. Nothing else mattered.


	47. Sunday Morning

**chapter forty-six**

**sunday morning**

* * *

It was completely irrational given my current situation, but I couldn't help it. Holidays frightened me. Easter was no exception. Sunday morning I woke with an overwhelming sense of foreboding. I rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom where I began my morning routine. When I was finished reciting my affirmations, I lingered in front of the mirror. The guest list was comprised entirely of people I loved, who loved me in return. There would be no drama, and I had no reason to panic. I just needed to convince myself of this. Roughly twenty minutes of chanting I-will-not-fuck-up later, I made my way downstairs and began my prep work.

I had the turkey stuffed and in the oven in no time at all. I was scrubbing the counter top daydreaming about Edward when I felt hands on the bare skin of my thighs.

It amazed me how real a sexual fantasy could feel. Either that, or it had been so long since I'd gotten any, my mind could no longer differentiate imaginary touches from the real thing.

"Good morning," Edward whispered into my ear before his lips found my neck. "Turkey is sort of an odd choice for Easter, don't you think?"

Meanwhile, my fantasies were becoming downright bizarre.

"I can't make ham. Rose and Em are coming."

Now we were discussing Jewish dietary restrictions.

Sigh.

No wonder doctors masturbated psychologically unstable women in Victorian times. Lack of sex really did cause insanity. I glanced at the clock on my stove. I had more than enough time for some self-love.

I turned around to head upstairs only to crash into a hard body. My heart stopped, until I realized it was Edward.

What the fuck was he doing here?

"You scared the shit out of me. You can't just go breaking into people's houses while they cook. Had I been cutting something, I could have accidentally amputated a finger." I punctuated each sentence with a whack from my dish towel.

"Ah, but you weren't, and you didn't."

He was laughing. I took another swipe at him with the towel.

Still chuckling, he took it away from me. "Seriously, does it actually bother you that I'm here? You used to like it when I surprised you in the morning."

"That was different. In those days, I knew there was a possibility you'd show up. You didn't have to resort to picking locks."

"I didn't pick your lock."

"How else would you get in here? What, did you climb in through a window?"

He pulled his key ring out of his pocket and held up a tarnished gold key. "I used this."

My mind quickly replayed the night I ended our relationship. I had packed up the things I had of his, but I never asked him to return my front door key.

"I should have offered it back to you a long time ago, but it was the only tangible thing I had of yours. Okay, so maybe that's not exactly true. I had your panties, but you didn't exactly give them to me. I sort of had them by default."

"Has it been on your key chain all this time?"

He nodded. "I couldn't bring myself to take it off. It was the only thing I had that connected me to you."

I was afraid to ask my next question, but I kind of needed to know. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

"During the past eighteen months, did you ever use it?"

"No."

I exhaled.

"However," he continued, "I'd be lying if I said I never thought about it. There were times when the pain from being away from you was excruciating, and I desperately wanted to feel close to you. One night, I drove here with every intention of letting myself in, but I couldn't do it. I didn't want to violate you." He touched my cheek briefly, then dropped his arm to his side. "You aren't mad at me, are you?"

"I should be furious with you."

"But you're not."

"No, I'm not. I had my fair share of very weak moments, when I missed you so much it hurt. If I'd had your room key in my pocket at those times, I can't say for sure I wouldn't have been tempted to use it."

"I should have told you I still had your key sooner. I know it was wrong of me to keep it. I was afraid you'd ask for it back, and I didn't want to give it up."

"It's okay, I understand." I looked down at myself and sighed. "If I'd known you were coming, I would have gotten dressed. It just gets so hot in here with the oven on. Hang on a sec while I get changed."

I started to walk out of the kitchen, but he held me in place.

"Don't put on clothes for my benefit. I think you look almost perfect as you are. If you would just allow me to make a couple of slight modifications to your attire… "

He placed his fingers on the hem of my cami and began lifting it towards my head. My breasts were exposed by the time I realized he was about to undress me. I crossed my arms to hold my top in place.

"Um, what do you think you're doing?"

He released my shirt and moved his hands to my bottom, pulling my hips against his. I gently pushed him away, but he would not be deterred. His hands settled on my hips, and began to suck lightly on my neck.

"Okay, Edward, I get it. Christ is risen, and so has your cock. I'm not completely unwilling to help you with that, but don't you think we have some things to discuss before we go there?"

He groaned in apparent sexual frustration. "I haven't had unprotected sex in the time we were apart, if that's what you're concerned about. However, I'm not opposed to being tested. It's only fair, considering you did that for me."

I hadn't even entertained the idea that he could have contracted something during our time apart. He was in a seven month relationship with Kate, and Edward was not the type of man who would be unfaithful. I knew he had not dated anyone since her. Though I wanted to ask whom he'd done in the months he was between girlfriends, my stomach turned at the thought of his answer. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know.

"I think you should get tested, but that's not my primary concern. We just haven't defined our relationship, and I don't think I can be intimate with you until we do."

"Are you asking me if I want to go steady?" he teased.

"Don't mock me. Friday night I told the world the depth of my feelings for you. That same night, you said you wanted to be my friend and my lover. That can mean commitment, or it could just mean you want to be fuck buddies. I would like some clarification."

"If I recall, I also I said I wanted to be a few other things as well." His fingers stroked the bare skin between my underwear and my tank top.

"Right. Exactly what did you have in mind?"

He pulled me against him and sucked my earlobe into his mouth. When his teeth grazed it, I became dizzy.

"Make no mistake, Bella." He spoke quietly into my ear. "I want to fuck you. I'm even more obsessed with the idea now than I was when I first saw you, though until recently I would have never thought that was possible. You are, and have always been, my ultimate sexual fantasy. Put me alone in a room with you, and I'm going to want to claim you in every way possible."

I should have expected this, and two years ago, I would have deserved it. The stakes were higher now.

I took a step away from him and crossed my arms in front of my breasts. "I know you felt objectified before, and I'm sorry. Truly, I am. That doesn't make it okay for you to do the same thing to me. If you're just looking for sex, I suggest you seek it elsewhere."

"I could never use you for sex. Bella, I never stopped loving you. I just didn't always trust you."

His words stung, but they were valid nonetheless.

"Do you trust me now?"

"Yes. The past three weeks…" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "They've been the worst of my life, but I know I never would have gotten through them without you. You've given me everything I've asked for and things I didn't even know I needed. Add to that what you've done for my mother… I never realized you could be so nurturing. To say I want you in my life forever doesn't quite capture the sentiment. You are my life."

He brushed his thumb under my eye, removing the wetness. I hadn't noticed I was crying.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

"I'm afraid that you're reacting to grief and not thinking clearly."

"I knew you'd discount me again. What is it going to take for you to believe I love you?" He ran a hand through his hair and groaned in frustration. "Is it a matter of time or actions? Tell me what you want me to do. I'm at a loss here."

"I'm not belittling your feelings. I just know that we don't always see clearly while we are bereaved…"

He cupped my face and his eyes bore into mine. "I assure you. I have never seen more clearly."

He pressed his lips against mine, and his tongue entered my mouth. I felt his hands in so many places it was difficult to believe he had only two of them. When he pressed them against my bottom, I wrapped my legs against his waist. With our mouths still joined, he carried me to my bedroom where he placed me on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of me.

He twisted my nipple through my shirt. "Lay back."

I flopped onto the bed with my legs dangling off the edge. Still kneeling in front of me, he pulled off my panties. Before I could question his intentions, his tongue was tracing my clit.

My vibrator had been the source of all orgasms I'd had in the past eighteen months. It had absolutely nothing on Edward. I raised myself up onto my elbows so I could watch him. The sight of him fully clothed, pleasuring me with his mouth, was quite possibly the most erotic thing I'd ever seen.

I wasn't going to last long.

He pressed his fingers inside me. "So wet," he whispered before going back to work with his tongue. Moments later, squeezing him between my thighs, I found my release.

He stood up, lay down on the bed next to me, and pulled me into his arms.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I wanted to thank you for being there for me. It was either send you a card, or give you cunnilingus. I assumed you'd prefer the latter. Was I wrong? I can always run out to a Hallmark store…"

"That's won't be necessary. And for the record, I always prefer cunnilingus to greeting cards."

"I got that impression. There was a moment there when I thought your legs would tear my head off."

"Sorry about that. It's been a while for me, and I'd forgotten how amazing that feels." My eyes trailed over his body. There was a decided bulge underneath his dress pants. I wanted him inside me, but I hadn't anticipated physical intimacy. The fact I had no condoms was a deal breaker.

Still, after what he did for me, he deserved to come.

"Now, what about you?" I smiled seductively and reached for his crotch.

He caught my hand and pressed it against his chest. "I don't need you to reciprocate. This morning was all about you."

His mixed signals were making me insane. "I thought you were ready to be intimate again."

"Oh, I am. I just didn't expect that you would be, and I didn't come prepared. Do you still have your IUD?"

I nodded.

"I'll get tested as soon as possible. Now, would you like your key back? I completely understand if you do, but since we're going to be a couple again, it does make sense for me to hang onto it."

"You should keep it. Everything here is yours anyway."

The kiss he gave me could only be described as tender.

"I love you so much," I whispered.

"I believe you."

It was the single most meaningful thing he could have said to me in return.


	48. Chocolate Grinder No 1

**chapter forty-seven**

**chocolate grinder (no 1)**

* * *

It was impossible to panic with Edward at my side. We settled into an easy rhythm as we finished preparing the meal. Wearing one of my aprons, he stood next to me at the kitchen counter helping me in any way he was able. We touched as frequently as we could while still being productive. As morning turned into afternoon, my pre-holiday jitters were replaced with a sense of peace I previously would not have thought possible. As much as I was looking forward to seeing my friends, part of me wished I could spend the rest of the day reveling in the quiet contentment I felt in Edward's company.

Esme arrived first, and Edward went outside to help her unload her car. She came inside holding a wrapped platter, which she immediately handed to me.

"I may have gone overboard with your hostess gift, but I don't think you'll mind." Her voice was brimming with excitement.

"I'm sure whatever you made is perfect. Does it need to be refrigerated?"

"I wasn't referring to the hors d'oeuvres."

I looked over her shoulder and saw Edward holding a framed black and white lithograph of three men in commencement robes. Though I was unfamiliar with this particular piece, I would have recognized the style anywhere. It was Grant Wood.

"So, where would you like this?" Edward smiled broadly.

My jaw dropped. "You're kidding, right?"

Esme shook her head. "No. It was part of Carlisle's personal collection. I think he would want you to have it."

Somehow, I understood why.

"Did you know I met Carlisle for the first time at Edward's graduation? He teased me about my lack of academic regalia. My back was turned to him, and I thought he was a student. I responded to him somewhat condescendingly by implying he was too poorly read to understand that I was paying tribute to Virginia Woolf. I sent him off to read Three Guineas and told him to report back to me."

"I know. He told me all about it after you and Edward left our house following that disastrous dinner. It stuck out in his mind because he'd never read anything by Virginia Woolf. It was the first time in his adult life someone made a literary reference he didn't immediately understand. He insisted the Women's Studies program in which he participated as an undergraduate had nothing whatsoever to do with feminism or literature."

Edward let out a loud laugh. "That's so Dad."

"I know, right?" Esme smiled. "I had to explain to him why academic garb is patriarchal, why some feminists would eschew it, and why despite the fact that you were engaged in an inappropriate relationship with my under age son, I suddenly found myself wanting to dance around a burning house with you."

I knew what Esme was implying, and it shocked me.

"Were you the first woman in your family to attend college?" I asked.

"The first person, period." She squeezed my hand. "We're kindred in more ways than you realize."

Though I had not intended to accept the lithograph, I now understood why she wanted me to have it. I placed the tray of hors d'oeuvres on the coffee table and hurried off to the kitchen where I retrieved a hammer from under my sink.

"What do you think about hanging it over the piano?" I asked as I reentered the living room.

Edward smiled. "I think that would be perfect."

Less than an hour passed before my house was filled with my loved ones. David was now walking, and he delighted himself by standing on tiptoes so he could bang on the piano. When he appeared to be tiring out, Edward pulled him onto his lap and played a lullaby. I was amazed by the patience and understated affection he showed David. I stared at them from the dining room in wonder, turning away for only a handful of seconds so I could acknowledge Rose who was now standing beside me with two glasses of wine.

She handed one of them to me. "You've never seen them together, have you?"

I shook my head. "It's interesting. I thought I knew everything there was to know about Edward, yet he continues to surprise me. Seeing him like this puts so many things in perspective."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I had no idea that Edward was so good with babies. I'm sure there are many more revelations to come, some of which would not be news to you."

"You're passive aggressively grilling me for information about your ex-boyfriend."

"Current boyfriend," I clarified.

She turned away from the living room and looked at me. "Oh, really?"

I nodded.

"It's about time."

I looked at Rose expectantly. "Is my tactic working?"

"No. I'm still not telling you anything that Edward or Emmett told me in confidence."

"I only have one question, and it will help me put some things in the proper context. You won't be betraying either of them if you answer based on your own observations."

"Fine."

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad off was Edward after we broke up?"

Rose didn't look at me as she answered. "Eleven."

I sighed.

"Bella, you really should be having this discussion with Edward."

"I've tried. He says he doesn't want to dwell on the past and changes the subject."

"I can understand why he wouldn't."

"Why, because I broke him?"

It came out sounding a bit more defensive than I would have liked.

"No, because revisiting dark times can be emotionally trying even under the best circumstances, and he did just lose his father. I wouldn't dwell on it. He's obviously forgiven you."

"After what I put him through, I wonder if that is even possible." I stared into my wine glass bitterly.

"Have you forgiven your mother for hurting you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And you don't think Edward is equally capable of letting things go? Bella, do you really think he would have taken you back if he were still harboring resentment towards you?"

She had a point.

"I suppose not."

"Speaking of letting go of the past, when did this long-awaited change in status finally occur?"

I smiled. "Four hours ago."

Rose's jaw dropped. "I'm in shock."

"Really? We've been teetering on the cusp of this for months now."

"Oh, I'm not at all surprised you two are back together. I'm amazed you didn't cancel dinner so you could spend all day fucking."

I laughed. "We didn't have any condoms."

She looked at me in disbelief. "You actually let that stop you? "

"Wouldn't you?"

"No. That's a problem that can be rectified with a quick trip to Wawa, provided of course that you wanted to have sex in the first place. I've only ever used the out of condoms excuse when I was less than enthusiastic about the imminent coupling."

"My physical desire for Edward has not waned," I assured her. "Love may have driven our reconciliation, but lust is riding shotgun."

"What about your sexual frustration?"

"It's straddling the hump in the back seat."

"Who is humping in the back seat?" As if on cue, Alice walked into the dining room and refilled her wine glass.

Rose sighed. "Sadly, no one at the moment."

"Speaking of not getting laid." I cleared my throat. "Do either of you have any idea how long a dry spell needs to last before a person is revirginized?"

"I think that depends on the amount of experience a person has before becoming celibate," Rose explained. "For example, I'm fairly sure in my case it would take at least a decade. Alice, however, is such a prude that if Jasper were to spend a long weekend hiking with the guys, I suspect her hymen would grow back within seventy-two hours."

I choked on my wine.

"That's not funny." Alice gave Rose a very stern look. "Have either of you ever had sex after your hymen regenerated after a brief period of vaginal disuse? I assure you, it can be quite painful."

It took Rose and me a moment to realize Alice was kidding. When we finally did, we giggled uncontrollably.

"You're just lucky I love you both so much that I don't care how much you mock me. I know I'm not a prude. I only seem like one because you two are nymphos." She put one arm around me and the other around Rose. "So, why are we talking about celibacy-induced revirginization?"

Rose pointed to me, and I took a sip of my wine.

Alice's eyes grew wide with realization. "You mean you and Edward still haven't done it?"

I shook my head.

"I was so sure after you declared your undying love to him at McGillin's Friday night you would have gotten some."

"They only officially got back together this morning," Rose explained.

"Ah. So how long has it been now since Bella's gotten banged?"

"Four days shy of eighteen months," I answered sadly. "That's a long time. I may have forgotten how to work it."

Rose smiled. "You're nervous. It's cute."

"It's pathetic," I whined.

"No, it's not. It just means that this time you're not letting the emotional significance of the act itself escape you…"

Rose stopped speaking when Edward got up from the piano. He walked toward us with a very sleepy David in his arms.

"Should I bring him upstairs?" he asked. "Emmett is setting up his pack n' play and baby monitor in one of the spare rooms."

"Thank you, Edward. It was so nice of you to play for him. He adores you."

"It's mutual." Edward smiled down at David and stroked his hair before leaving to carry him upstairs.

When David was finally asleep, I served a pleasant meal to the people I loved. Since everyone but me had to work the following day, only Edward lingered after dessert. Despite the fact he had to be up early the following day, he insisted that he help me clean before he went home. He left me exhausted and contented. Ultimately, the latter won. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

As sunlight streamed through my bedroom window, I opened my eyes the next day to find Edward next to me with his laptop.

"Good morning," I said, yawning.

Edward laughed. "Not in this time zone. It's actually a little after two o'clock in the afternoon."

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "How long have you been here?"

"About an hour." He closed his laptop and set it on the bedside table. "You looked so peaceful. I couldn't bring myself to wake you."

He put his arm around me and pulled me into his chest. A Band-Aid on the inside of his elbow pulled my focus.

I straightened his arm to get a better look. "Someone isn't wasting any time."

He laughed. "Um, no."

"I didn't know you could have blood work done on such short notice."

"You can have anything done on short notice if you have the right connections."

Suddenly, I felt incredibly guilty.

I sat up and turned around so I could see his face. "I hope I didn't make you feel pressured. I know in the past, I haven't always been patient. I hope you didn't feel as though you had to rush out and do this."

He placed his hands on my shoulders. "Let me clarify something. I have never felt pressured to have sex with you. Not then and certainly not now."

"You said you felt objectified…"

"Oh, at times I did, but for that we're equally culpable. I was completely aware that you were using physical intimacy to avoid confronting your emotions. Still, I wanted you so badly I went along with it. At no point did I ever insist that we keep our clothes on and just talk. I knew you had unresolved issues from your past, that you felt unlovable. I thought my love could make you whole, that I could prove to you how worthy you are simply by loving you. I think that was a large part of why our break up destroyed me. It wasn't just that I'd lost you. I'd also failed you. Until then, I'd never failed at anything.

"I believed you when you told me you were incapable of loving me, and for months I wondered how I could have been stupid enough to believe that you did. As time went on, I looked back on our relationship with some distance and a little clarity. I realized what you said on Thanksgiving contradicted everything you'd communicated to me previously. I knew you lied. I just wasn't sure if it had been during our relationship or its demise."

He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear before trailing his fingertips down my arm. I tried to ignore the ensuing flutter in my pelvis.

"Anyway," he continued, "I don't fault you for any of it."

"You don't have to," I said, staring into my lap. "I do enough of that for both of us."

"Bella, look at me." He nudged my chin up with his hand. "I forgave you a long time ago. You need to forgive yourself."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine in a gentle kiss, after which I rested my head on his shoulder.

"I'm not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me. I just want you to understand…" I paused and selected my next words carefully. "I know the Thanksgiving Massacre was entirely my doing, and I know some people would think I deserved to suffer for it. I just want you to know, well, that my actions caused me pain, too. Each and every moment we were apart, I ached for you. I regretted my decision to end our relationship the moment you left. I just didn't go after you because there was something I wanted more than to have you in my life."

He stroked my hair as he spoke. "And what was that?"

"To actually deserve my place in yours."

His fingers brushed my arm, and he kissed the top of my head.

"You do," he whispered.

For what may as well have been the first time in my life, I exhaled.


	49. The Assumption of the Virgin

**chapter forty-eight**

**the assumption of the virgin**

* * *

Though Edward had classes three days of the week, I was still incredibly grateful to be on Spring Break. Having my days free allowed me to spend every moment he was not in school at his side. If such a thing as Utopian romance existed, the current incarnation of my relationship with Edward would surely qualify. We had all the passion and excitement of new love coupled with a quiet acceptance and respect that can only be built over time. I was overwhelmed with a sense of contentment that I'd previously thought attainable only through the use of doctor-prescribed pharmaceuticals. If I spent the rest of my life feeling as I did now, I would die happy and fulfilled.

Assuming, of course, that the ever-present sexual tension between us didn't force me into an early grave.

I was sipping my coffee pondering this very thought when Edward called me.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" I asked.

"I'm about to go in now. So, about our date later…"

"Canceling on me already?"

He laughed. "Not on your life. I just wanted to let you know I'll be over to pick you up at one, and that you should pack an overnight bag."

Though we'd shared a bed multiple times without physical intimacy, something about his tone told me tonight was going to be different.

"Have you gotten your test results?"

"Yes."

I was suddenly irrationally panicked. "What were they?"

"Clean. I told you they would be."

"Right," I muttered nervously.

Edward seemed to understand. "Just so you know, I have no expectations outside of spending time alone with you. Look, I've got to go. They're getting ready to start. I love you, and I'll see you in a bit."

As much as I wanted to be with Edward, I was still very nervous about it. I spent the next few hours doing housework and running errands. I was grateful for any available distraction and kept myself as busy as possible. The morning passed quickly and before I knew it, Edward and I were in his car heading east on the Atlantic City Expressway.

"Are you taking me where I think you're taking me?" I asked.

He laughed. "If you're thinking the shore house, then you would be correct. I wanted privacy, and it seemed fitting. Besides, I miss it down there."

"Well, it's April. You probably haven't been to the beach since October."

"Actually, not since the Labor Day before last."

I looked at him in disbelief.

His eyes stayed fixed on the road as he elaborated. "I didn't come down here at all last summer. I went to Europe instead."

I was both saddened and relieved. Though I hated the idea of him bringing girls to a place that held such significance to us, I was fairly certain that the fact he'd not been to his beach house once since I ended our relationship was not a coincidence.

"All summer?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What did you do on your eighteenth birthday?"

"I spent it at the Louvre."

I smiled. That was so Edward. No wonder I felt his presence around me at the Art Museum on his birthday. In a sense, he spent the day the same way I did.

"How very cerebral of you," I teased. "Most Americans in that situation would have gone drinking."

He smiled. "I may have hit a bar or two with my dad after the museum closed. You know how he was. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

We spent the rest of the drive talking about his experiences in Europe. Before I knew it, we were strolling on the beach in front of his house. We held hands, but didn't speak. In the absence of any other sound, the crashing of the waves was deafening. As we walked over the same patch of sand on which Edward first declared his love for me, words seemed both unnecessary and redundant. We stood in silence, and he pulled me into his arms.

The sea breeze was frigid, and despite the warmth from his body I began to shiver. Edward picked me up and carried me inside the house, heading straight to the room we'd once shared before depositing me next to the bed. His eyes bore into mine, and I knew exactly why he'd brought me here.

I wanted it, too.

Though I was no longer chilled, I shivered. He stroked my arms over my sweater as I silently willed myself to calm down.

"You're trembling. Are you still cold?"

"No, just a bit nervous."

I sat on the edge of the bed, and he immediately joined me.

"Don't be," he whispered. "It's just me."

I clenched my eyes shut and exhaled. "Exactly."

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready."

"Oh, believe me, I'm ready. I just…"

He rubbed my shoulders. "What? You can tell me."

I spoke with trepidation. "It's been a long time since I've done this. Eighteen months, to be exact. We've had six months of foreplay masquerading as friendship, and I'm terrified that having sex with me will be anticlimactic for you."

"If I remember correctly, it had been five months since you'd had sex the first time we were intimate."

"That's right."

"You weren't nervous then."

"That was different. Your inexperience alleviated my anxiety. That's no longer the case. You've now had me, and I'm sure there were others…"

I stopped speaking and looked at him expectantly.

"Are you asking me about my sex life during our separation?"

I thought a bit before answering him. His blood work came back clean, and nothing he could tell me would change my feelings for him. I didn't need to know, but at the same time, not knowing would drive me insane.

"Yes," I admitted. "If you don't mind telling me, that is."

"No, I don't mind. It's only fair, considering how I hounded you about yours. I haven't brought it up because I thought you didn't want to know. I remember all too well how I felt when you answered a very similar question. I instantly regretted asking."

"Of course you did. I'm sure it sucks to find out your girlfriend is an epic slut."

"You know that's not what I mean. Though it was hardly a revelation, it was hard for me to hear you'd been with other people. It meant that I could never be to you what you were to me. You'd done everything there is to do with both genders. I thought I would never be able to satisfy you. I was too inexperienced to view your past in the proper perspective. How could I? You were my first crush, my first kiss, my first love…" He stroked my cheek before adding with a small laugh, "…my first non-masturbatory orgasm."

The nagging question in my mind wouldn't go away.

On the one hand, I thought I didn't want to know the answer. In the context of where we stood now, it was irrelevant. Still, I knew I'd always wonder…

"Have I been your only?"

"My only love?" His fingertips traced my shoulders. "Yes."

"No, the only source of your non-masturbatory orgasms."

"Oh." He put his hands in his lap and looked down at them briefly. There was the faintest tinge of a blush when he met my gaze.

As much as I'd missed it, I hated that it was making its reappearance during this conversation.

"No," he said finally. "My relationship with Kate did involve physical intimacy."

That much, I already knew.

"I'd assumed it did." I looked away from him.

"Talk to me, Bella." He brought his hand to my cheek and nudged me to face him.

I sighed. "I never thought you would remain celibate. Part of me even hoped you wouldn't. I neither expected nor wanted you to pine away for me."

"Oh, I pined. I thought of you constantly even while in a committed relationship with someone else. Months later, I still feel like a complete asshole for it." He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It just stings a bit."

"I know." He reached over to me and squeezed my hand. "It's okay if you don't want to hear the rest."

Uh oh, here it comes.

"No, please tell me."

"Kate and I were together for seven months, and I really wanted it to work. We were in the same place in life, lived in the same building, came from the same background, and have all the same goals. She's honest and genuine, and was the best friend I could ever ask for at a time in my life when I desperately needed one. I'll always love her for everything she did for me, but I was never in love with her. I couldn't be, no matter how much I wished otherwise. She's amazing, but she's not you."

"Were you already dating her when I saw you at David's bris?"

"No. Actually, that was what compelled me to try to move on. Do you remember what you did that afternoon?"

"Yes. I humiliated myself."

"That's how you remember it?"

I nodded. "I wanted to reopen communication with you. Needless to say, I failed."

"Wow." He squinted and shook his head, trying to process my admission. "Whoa. That puts a whole new spin on things. No, I was talking about when you asked if we could start over. You held out your hand and said, 'I'm Bella.' It was as if our entire relationship meant nothing to you. Meanwhile, you stood in front of me wearing the very outfit that I'd peeled off you during what was quite possibly the greatest moment of my life. I assumed you were sending me a message, and I let go of any hope I'd had that you would change your mind."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

Edward pressed a finger to my lips. "You don't have to apologize. We're past that."

He rested his back onto the bed and pulled me against his chest. I snuggled up to him throwing one of my legs on top of his.

"Well, this conversation is a mood killer," I muttered into his chest.

"I know." He stroked my hair. "I must admit, I'm glad to have it behind us. I was worried about how you'd take it."

"Why?" I propped myself up so I could see his face. "You were under no obligation to me at the time."

"I'm completely aware of that, but remember that night at the diner? You flipped out at the mere suggestion I'd dated other women."

"I know. It was a momentary lapse for which I am extremely sorry." I rested my head on his chest. "So you had sex with Kate," I repeated dumbly.

"Yes."

"Anyone else?"

"No."

"You're kidding."

"I wouldn't joke about this. If you're asking for the number of sexual partners I've had, it would be two including you."

I looked at him in disbelief.

"You seem surprised."

"I am surprised. All this time, I've been picturing you with a harem of skanks."

Edward laughed.

"What's so funny? It was obvious when I visited how many of the girls up there want you."

"That doesn't mean I'd want to take them up on it. You should know me well enough by now to realize that I'm not the kind of person who can have sex with no feelings involved. I'd never just hook with someone because she was hot and willing."

"Isn't that what college is about? Random, drunken sexual encounters with people you pretend not to know while sober?"

He tickled me under my arms. "Maybe it was for you. I can see your list of school supplies right now. Pens, notebooks, condoms, knee pads…"

"Hey." I smacked his hands away, giggling. "Everyone needs to experiment sexually at some point in their lives."

"Oh, I'm all about experimenting sexually." He moved his hands to my chest, squeezing my breasts, before settling one of them between my legs. He began to stroke me over my pants. "There are so many things I want to do to you."

"Really, now? And what would they be?"

He kissed my neck, and spoke directly into my ear. "I want to touch you, taste you, bury myself in you."

His teeth grazed my earlobe, and I let out a low whimper.

"I want to see the face you make when you come. You close your eyes and suck the right corner of your lower lip into your mouth."

"I do that?" I asked.

"Each and every time."

His tongue flicked briefly into my ear, and he continued speaking. "I want to hear you gasp and moan, and know that every sound you make is for me."

He sucked lightly on my neck. "I want to suck on your fingers, your nipples, your clit, and then kiss you with your taste still on my lips."

He began to apply a little more pressure between my legs. Though I was still fully clothed, I thought I would spontaneously combust from arousal.

He traced my lower lip with his tongue. "I want to penetrate you in every way possible, to finally make you belong to me in the way that I've always belonged to you."

He stopped moving his hand between my legs and rested it on my chest.

"But only if you're ready," he added in a whisper.

I sat up and straddled him, rocking my hips against his. He closed his eyes and let out a low groan as his hands found my bottom. The moment I felt his hardness beneath me, I knew I was through with waiting. I pulled off my sweater and tossed it behind me. Seconds later, my bra followed suit. I leaned forward and began to unbutton Edward's shirt.

"Oh, I'm ready."

He flipped me onto my back and pressed his lips against mine. His tongue swept inside my mouth, tasting and teasing, as he shrugged out of his shirt. The light spattering of hair on his chest tickled my breasts, and my nipples began to harden.

I needed more of him.

I undid the top button of his jeans and lowered the zipper. Still kissing, we wiggled out of the rest of our clothing. When he lowered his body onto mine, I felt overwhelmed by heat and skin.

And his erection.

Hello, old friend.

I moved my hand between us and squeezed his cock, running my thumb over the head. Edward moaned, and began squeezing my nipples with his thumb and forefinger. Gasping, I moved my hand from his penis to his hair. He brought my nipple into his mouth and began to suckle, just as he entered me with his fingers.

I thought I was going to come off the bed.

"So wet," he whispered into my breast. He began to work his thumb over my most sensitive place, and I knew I was done.

"Edward, I'm…Oh…I'm going to come."

Without altering the movement of his hand between my legs, he pinched one of my nipples. My hips bucked against his hand, and I let out sounds I didn't know I was capable of making.

My climax came suddenly, and even the soles of my feet tingled with its intensity. I opened my eyes to see Edward smiling down at me.

"What?"

"You made the face." He looked quite pleased with himself.

I pressed my lips against his, and swept my tongue inside his mouth. He settled his hips between my legs, and rubbed my slit with his erection. He broke the kiss. For several seconds we lay completely still, the tip of penis poised at my entrance, his eyes staring into mine.

"I love you," I whispered. "Then and now."

"Always?" he asked.

"Always."

He cupped my face in his hands. "I love you, too."

Without taking his eyes off mine, he pressed himself inside me.

I felt loved.

I felt at peace.

I felt whole.

It was already like nothing I'd experienced before, and he had not yet begun to move.

"You're crying." He brushed my cheek with his thumb. "Why are you crying?"

I closed my eyes and smiled. "I think I just lost my virginity."

I didn't need to elaborate. The expression on his face when I opened my eyes told me he understood completely.

He shifted his hips, and we both gasped in pleasure. He moved in and out of me, each thrust punctuated with a moan. His pace increased, and I knew he was close. I kept my eyes open and fixed on his face. Soon he clenched his shut and twitched inside of me, crying out my name with his orgasm. Fully spent, he collapsed on top of me, resting his head between my breasts.

My fingers played in his hair, and as his breathing returned to normal I realized I'd never felt closer to another human being.

Nor had I ever felt so loved.


	50. The Lovers

**chapter forty-nine**

**the lovers**

* * *

And so we began again.

And again.

And again.

We didn't sleep, and we barely came up for air. Edward insisted that my body had changed in the eighteen months were we apart, and he could no longer consider himself an expert without performing extensive research.

I understood his feelings. Being with Edward intimately again was a unique study in contrasts. Though his physique differed very little from what I recalled, nothing about being with him was the same. We'd made love several times before I verbally acknowledged this change.

"I don't remember it being like this." I rested my head against his chest.

"How so?" he asked.

I traced the perimeter of his nipple with my index finger, trying to put my thoughts into words.

"If you'd asked me yesterday what I remembered about being intimate with you, I would have answered pleasure. Intense physical pleasure."

I felt him laugh beneath me.

"As opposed to now, where you're hardly aroused and can't get off? I don't consider myself an expert on female orgasms, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself. Of course, if there's anything you'd like that I'm not doing, I'll take direction. As always, I am your diligent pupil." His hand moved down my back and lazily stroked my backside. "So, Ms. Swan…is there anything stimulating in your lesson plan? Have you planned any exercises to help me improve my skills? I'm more than willing to be schooled."

"There's nothing wrong with your skills." I folded my hands on his chest and rested my chin on top of them. "The pleasure I experience from being intimate with you is still every bit as intense as it was in our previous incarnation. That being said, I still can't help but feel as though the past few hours have had nothing whatsoever to do with physical release."

"Just so you know, you released plenty. You're lucky this is a king sized bed, and we have room to spread out. Otherwise, one of us would be sleeping in the wet spot."

I lightly smacked his shoulder. "I'm serious. Speaking of the sheets, why were they even on the bed? I thought you said no one had been down here in months."

He smiled sheepishly. "I might have called ahead to make some arrangements."

"My, aren't we presumptuous? Am I that much of a sure thing?"

"Listen to you. You'd think there was nothing else for us to do here but boink."

"It's off season. There pretty much isn't anything else to do."

"That's what you think," he scoffed. "I had a few things set up for us. In addition to bed linens, which would have been necessary whether or not we were intimate, there's also food and wine…" He trailed his hand down the side of my body.

"Wine dulls the senses." I rolled off him onto my side, and his hand cupped my newly accessible breast. His thumb made an upward stroke across my nipple, and I closed my eyes and reveled in his touch. "Tonight, I want to feel everything."

Edward laughed. "I hate to be the one to break this to you, but I think you already have."

"I'm serious, so please don't make fun of me. I cherish every second I have with you. It wasn't all that long ago when your touch topped the list of things I thought I'd never again experience."

He stroked my cheek, and I pressed my face into his hand.

"I don't ever want to be without you. It's such a clich√© to say that life is too short, but if losing my father has taught me anything…" He shook his head. "It's no longer possible for me to ignore that there are no guarantees, even with the best intentions, even living each day as if it were your last. One morning you'll wake up, and though you won't realize it, every opportunity that arises will be your very last chance. I'm no longer laboring under the false assumption that we have all the time in the world. Everything ends, one way or another. As much as I'd like to postpone having this conversation with you and enjoy the moment, I know I really can't. It's not fair to either of us."

I took mental inventory of the uncomfortable conversations we'd had over the past few days.

His updated sexual history…check.

How I pushed him into Kate's arms by being an asshole at David's bris…check.

That I needed to love myself before I could ever love him the way he deserved…check.

Despite his insistence to the contrary, he really does hate my hair this short…check.

I couldn't imagine what we could have possibly missed.

"Exactly what conversation are you talking about?" I asked finally.

"Your expectations of our relationship."

"That's easy." I punctuated each of my words with a kiss on his chest. "Love. Affection. Companionship. Lots and lots of sex."

"Fair enough." He smiled. "But what do you want to happen when we go home?"

A lump formed in my throat. "Excuse me?"

"I have two years left of school…" he began.

"I'm aware of this." I sighed. "I imagine in time you'll want to move back to campus."

"I have no intention of moving back to campus. I'm not going to leave my mother."

"Your mother doesn't want you putting your life on hold for her. It's important to her that you enjoy the rest of your time at Princeton. She's told me as much. Just so you know, she's planning on paying for you to have a dorm room next year whether you occupy it or not."

"I suspected she would do that. Still, that's just geography. Whether I live there or at home has little bearing on this discussion. The majority of the issues we had when we dated the first time still exist. From day one, our ideas of what it means to be in a relationship differed greatly."

"I admitted to myself that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you in rare moments of complete honesty. I was not reluctant to verbalize this to you because I had doubts regarding your integrity. Telling you that I loved you and that I wanted you forever made me feel so vulnerable. It still does, to some extent, but I'm learning to cope with it. Though I feel completely exposed around you, I know you would never hurt me intentionally."

In a gesture that could only be described as sweet, Edward lifted my hand off the bed and placed a kiss on my knuckles.

He continued to hold my hand as he spoke. "You once said you didn't believe in marriage."

"I said I never saw myself as ever getting married. I know you interpreted that statement as disparaging to you, when really it wasn't. At that point in my life, I was unable to wrap my mind around the idea that anyone would choose to stay with me, especially in the presence of other options."

"Has this changed?"

"No. Yes. Kind of." I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly in a futile attempt to release some of the mounting tension. "I'm still in therapy. I'm working on it. I hope that if the circumstances were right, I would be able to make that leap. I know though that if the situation presented itself tomorrow, I'd panic and withdraw into myself. I guess it's progress that I'm now self-actualized enough to recognize my behavior for what it is. I'm sorry. I know that's not the answer you wanted. Our first relationship ended with a lie. I can't allow our current incarnation to begin with one."

He gently squeezed my hand. "I appreciate your honesty. I have one other question."

"Okay." I nodded nervously.

"Are you willing to be seen in public with me?"

I laughed. "I already have been. Though I haven't sent a mass email to the school district notifying them of our relationship, I haven't denied we are close friends when it has come up in conversation. I didn't feel compelled to elaborate, because I would never discuss my personal life at work. It had nothing to do with you. You graduated two years ago. I seriously doubt it would be an issue."

Mischief lit his face. I suddenly realized I had unwittingly played right into his hand.

"I'm glad to hear you say that. I have a formal next weekend, and I would love for you to attend it with me. Before you ask, yes, there will be underage drinking and illegal substances present at this event."

He nailed me.

"Will this function be held on private property?"

"Yes."

As a twenty-six year old attending an under-graduate function, I knew I would feel only slightly less dirty than a flasher on Rittenhouse Square. Still, I couldn't deny him.

I sighed in defeat. "Yes. I would love to escort you."

"Thank you." He pulled me against his chest. "I know this makes you uncomfortable, but it won't be forever. We only have two more years before I'll be legal."

"By then you'll also be finished college and heading off to medical school."

He sharply inhaled. "I'm not sure I can go through with that."

I closed my eyes and snuggled closer against his chest. "I'll follow you anywhere. You know that, right? "

He stroked my hair. "I know you would, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm just not sure I want to pursue medicine."

I propped myself up on my elbow so I could see his face. "Really? What changed?"

He sighed. "I'm not even sure I can describe it. It's not like I had any illusions about what practicing medicine actually entails. I've watched both my parents come home after losing patients. It starts to be…almost normal after a while. My dad never seemed any more put out by it than you are when you have a bad day teaching. Intellectually, I understood what a doctor's responsibilities are when a life is lost on his watch. I knew that it's typically the attending physician who would inform the patient's family. I just never actually thought about how it would feel to be that person…"

He choked on his words as his eyes filled with tears. "I never thought about what it would be like to tell a woman she had lost her husband…to tell a man he lost his father until I was on the receiving end. The doctor came into the waiting room, scrub cap in hand, looking defeated. I can't even remember what he said, just my mother's screams as she fell to the floor in shock. Her hair was so red against the sterile gray linoleum, she looked like she was bleeding."

I sat up and pulled him into my arms. I didn't need to see his face. The trembling of his chest coupled with his labored breathing told me exactly what he was doing. Several moments later, when he pulled away from me and leaned against the headboard, his red eyes told me I was right.

He pulled me against his chest. "I know the trauma surgeon who operated on my dad thought he'd failed us, that he'd failed my mother. I could see it in his eyes. Still, when his shift ended, he probably drove home and ate dinner with his family like it was any other day. I know he did. I'd watched my dad do the very same thing more times than I can count. I'm not judging him for it. There's a certain emotional disconnect a person needs in order to be effective in medicine. I don't have it."

"I doubt your father had it at eighteen, either. Sadly, I imagine it's one of those things that's gained solely through experience."

"That's experience I can do without. I don't want to become desensitized, to be able to shrug off the loss of human life. I'm grateful there are people out there who can do that, who don't mind. I doubt I'll ever be one of them." He paused briefly, lazily running his fingertips along my spine. "I'm not sure I want to be."

"Not to state the obvious, but you can still work in the medical field in other capacities. Lots of people attend medical school and never practice. There's the research and engineering side of it."

"True. I have no intention of changing majors, so I could certainly pursue that path if I decided it appealed to me. Really, I think I may want to take some time off and compose a bit. I can always apply to medical school later if I change my mind."

I played with the sprinkle of hair around his nipples. "Musicians are incredibly sexy."

"Are they sexier than doctors?" he asked, seemingly very intrigued.

"That depends on a variety of factors. I would need to know which instrument the musician plays, as well as what color scrubs the doctor is wearing. Though doctors have steady hands, musicians also have skills. Bagpipers can hold their breath for minutes at time. Imagine the possibilities…"

He laughed and rolled me over onto my back, settling himself between my legs.

I cupped his face in my hands. "I just want you to be happy. How you spend your days is of little importance to me as long as you find it fulfilling. I'm far more concerned with how you spend your nights."

I fought the urge to trail my hand down his torso and squeeze his cock. Edward would think I was using sex to avoid intimacy, and in the past, he would have been correct. It was different now. Taking him inside me was the best way to show him my commitment and sincerity.

And my love.

"So, what happens when we go home?" he asked, repeating his earlier question.

He had to realize this time everything was different.

I traced my finger around the tip of his penis, marveling as it hardened with my touch. My eyes met his, and I smiled unassumingly.

"I was kind of hoping to spend the rest of my life with you."

"You will," he whispered, pushing inside me.

I closed my eyes and lost myself in our coupling, finally able to give every part of myself to him, knowing he loved my ugly bits as much as he did the beautiful ones. I wasn't sure if forever would exist for us, but when I recalled the contents of the terse email he sent to me during one of our darkest moments, I couldn't help but believe that it would.

Edward had never lied to me.


	51. Public Promenade

**chapter fifty**

**public promenade**

* * *

Between Esme and Alice, I was fairly sure I'd be institutionalized by the end of the week.

"I just want something cheap," I insisted as I flipped through the rolling rack of gowns Alice brought into the fitting room. "This is pretty."

I lingered on a teal strapless gown that was fitted through the hips before flowing into a skirt of tiny tiered ruffles. My eyes scanned the price tag.

"This is over three thousand dollars. Okay, that's so not happening," I muttered to myself before turning to Alice. "Can't we just go to Loehmann's?"

Alice and Esme answered me in unison, "No."

I rolled my eyes and pointed to Alice. "I expect this shit from you." I angled my finger toward Esme. "You, on the other hand, not so much. When did you drink the Kool Aid?"

"This event is very important to Edward. He's so happy that you're going with him this weekend, that you're willing to share this part of his life with him."

"I guarantee you, Edward doesn't care what I wear. He's just going to…"

I stopped speaking when I remembered I was talking to his mother. Sure, we all knew my dress would end up on his dorm room floor, but I couldn't imagine Esme would want to hear that about her baby boy. I turned back to the rack and recommenced flipping through the gowns.

"Guys don't notice clothing," I muttered stupidly.

"I just know how it feels to show up at a function like this and be completely out of your element. Believe me, you'll feel less intimidated if you love what you're wearing."

I laughed. "If anything, I'll feel old. I doubt I'll be intimidated by college kids."

"I wasn't referring to their ages." Esme walked across the room and carefully examined the teal gown. "If you like it, you should try it on."

"I feel ridiculous even entertaining the idea. I can't wear an article of clothing that cost more money than my car."

"You wore couture to Alice's wedding," she countered.

"I did. And it felt excessive then, too. I only agreed to it because I knew if I didn't, in the company of the rest of the guests, I'd feel like her poor relation."

She continued paging through the dresses and when she finally did speak, her voice was firm but gentle. "What makes you think this is any different?"

"They're kids, and this is a college party."

"Age does not exclude a person from being vicious," Esme explained without a hint of humor.

"Is this your polite way of telling me I'll be playing Jay Gatsby to Edward's Daisy Fay?"

I heard Alice snort from across the room.

"More or less," Esme said.

"I think I can handle it," I insisted. "Even if I couldn't, I don't see how a dress that costs more than my annual property tax bill would help."

"You'll feel better if you like how you look."

"I teach public school, Esme. That means I already hold the degree these kids are working towards. It also means I've chosen a profession that pretty much assures I'll have neither the means nor the need to own a dress like this."

Esme sighed. "The first time I met Jack and Kitty, I was already sure he was it for me. What I didn't know was that I'd met Carlisle during a rebellious phase where he was determined to make it without the financial support of his parents. I had no idea what kind of world he came from. In those days, Carlisle lived in a row home in University City with five other guys. He ate ramen noodles and shopped at thrift stores. I assumed he was a scholarship student like me, until the night I met his parents. Jack's driver picked me up in a Bentley. I wound up at a formal dinner at their country club wearing a $7 dress I'd bought at a thrift store."

"Jack and Kitty are…well…Jack and Kitty. Even if you'd worn Armani, you still would have felt out of place for obvious reasons. For one, you're a human being. When you add to it that you're not a lush and you have a clue, I'm fairly sure the Cullens thought you were from another planet."

"True, but that's not what I'm talking about," she said.

"Surely, you'd met people like that at Penn."

"Penn is different from Princeton. It's urban, for one. The student population is more diverse and twice as large. You have less of the good old boy mentality. The social scene isn't based on a country club model. If you happened to be attending for free because your father was one of the janitors, you didn't necessarily stand out."

Whoa.

What?

"You went to Penn for free because your father was one of the janitors?"

She nodded.

"You can do that?" I asked.

"You could in the eighties. Of course, in those days you could also wear neon pink slouch socks over stirrup pants and delude yourself into thinking you looked hot."

"Too bad this isn't a theme party. You could make my hair big, and I know I could score some leggings for less than $20," I joked.

Esme looked crestfallen.

"I understand what you're trying to do for me, Esme, and I do appreciate it, but seriously…" I glanced at the label on the teal gown. "Carmen Marc Valvo is hardly industrial strength Raid. I'm not going to immobilize the killer WASPs with couture."

"Agreed. Still, I want to do this for you. You're going to feel self-conscious enough, being the oldest person there, and you won't know anyone but Edward. You have enough to contend with. Loving how you look is one less thing."

"Do you honestly think a better outfit would have helped you win over Jack and Kitty?"

"No, but I wouldn't have felt quite so self-conscious. It would have been harder for them to intimidate me. Just try on the gowns, Bella. Every woman should have a dress that makes her feel like a goddess. I know you're not comfortable going to the formal this weekend, and that you're only attending because it means a lot to Edward. It's something nice that you're doing for him, because you love him. This is something nice I can do for you, because I love you. It's not like I have a daughter I can do this with…"

I grabbed the teal gown off the rack.

"I'll try it on," I conceded, reminding myself that women rarely fall in love with the first dress they try on. I decided I would give it a go, and when it didn't work I'd have Alice find me something equally suitable in the $300 range.

Of course, I fell in love with it the second its zipper closed over my back. It was ridiculous and over the top, but I found myself twirling in front of the three way mirror in that fitting room. I didn't think I could possibly feel more beautiful until I saw the look on Edward's face when he saw me in his dorm room, dressed and ready to escort him to his formal. He leapt from the futon when I appeared, with bedroom eye make-up and my hair pulled into a tight chignon.

His eyes were filled with emotion.

"Would it be incredibly cheesy if I fell to my knees and thanked God I'm a man? Because that's kind of what I feel like doing right now."

I laughed. "Not only would I lose all respect I have for you, but you'd get schmutz on your tux."

He brought my hand to his lips. "In that case, let me leave it at this. You've never looked more beautiful. I've never been more proud to be with you, nor have I ever loved you more."

"Listen to you," I teased. "You'd think you'd spent the past two years at charm school, not the nation's most highly rated undergraduate institution. You do realize it's a huge waste of effort on your part. You should know by now I'm a sure thing." I added in a suggestive whisper, "Don't wear yourself out too much tonight. I have plans for you."

"Is that so?"

"Mmm hmm." I placed my hands on his chest and trailed them down the front of his body. "Do you remember the one act neither of us have done before?"

"Just so you know, I have zero interest in water sports, and the showers here are communal."

"Not that. Yuck. Wait, that's not something you're curious about, is it?" I was suddenly panicked.

"No, I was teasing you. I know exactly the act to which you are referring."

I smiled diabolically. "I brought a bottle of Astroglide."

His eyes widened. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to convince me to ditch the formal and stay in tonight."

"Would you skip the evening's social obligations if I told you I'd take it up the ass?"

"I'd seriously consider it."

"Interesting. Good thing you won't have to choose. I'm happy to provide you with both."

He flashed a triumphant smile, before placing an open-mouthed kiss on my throat. "I love you, Bella."

"You don't have to butter me up, you know. I told you I brought a whole bottle of lube, and I fully intend for us to use it."

"I'm serious." He rested his hands on my hips. "I know you feel uncomfortable here. Your presence tonight means to me more than I can possibly express."

"Well." I let out a mock sigh. "It was either stomach an evening on campus or throw you to the skanks. I can live with a few hours of feeling like the babysitter if it keeps you out of their clutches. Though once the whores see you in that tux, I'm going to have my work cut out for me. I suspect I'll have to beat them off you in a pathetic attempt to guard your virtue."

He pulled me against him. "You can do whatever you want, as long as when the party is over, the person you're beating off is me."

"That's a given." I hugged him tightly for a moment before we left.

Once outside his building, I threaded my arm through his. The conversation was light as he led me down Prospect Avenue, which he referred to simply as, "The Street".

"Will I know anyone here besides you?" I asked.

"No. Mike and Tyler belong to a different club, and Angela is an independent."

"Independence is an option? You made it sound as if one starved if one didn't join a club."

Edward laughed. "Starving is a bit extreme. It would be safe to say that you don't get much socially out of being here on campus if you don't join a club. Don't worry about not knowing anyone. I have no intention of leaving your side."

Edward stayed true to his word and remained next to me all evening. The event itself didn't feel much different from a fraternity formal, except the membership was coed and the surroundings were far more glamorous. The combination of the wine and how I felt in my gown made me feel more than comfortable, and by the third time I excused myself for the ladies' room, I felt almost at ease.

Tipsy and wearing a ball gown, taking care of business was no easy feat. I stood at the sink and rested my bag on the counter. I took out my lipstick and when I looked in the mirror to reapply, I noticed a girl standing two sinks down staring at me a bit too intensely. The second my eyes met hers, she immediately looked away. She seemed even more on edge than I had been at the beginning of the evening, a feat which I wouldn't have thought possible.

I put the cap back on my lipstick and addressed her, hoping to put her at ease. "Is your date the only person here you know?"

"Excuse me?" She looked startled.

"At this party. I'm sorry, it's none of my business. You just seem a bit jumpy, and I was wondering if you knew anyone here besides your date. You don't have to answer. Really, it's none of my business and nothing more than wishful thinking on my part. Not that I would want anyone to feel as out of place as I do right now, but it would be nice to have someone with whom I could commiserate." I gave her an awkward smile.

"Commiserate?" She repeated the last word I'd spoken almost as if she was struggling to grasp its meaning.

"I don't know anyone here except my boyfriend, Edward." I explained.

"He's a good one to know."

Though her words were complimentary, there was a marked absence of emotion behind them.

Still, I couldn't stop my smile from widening.

"He is, isn't he?" I held out my hand to her. "I'm Bella, by the way. You never did tell me if we were indeed kindred, but I'm guessing by the fact that you know Edward you're a student here and my theory was way off."

"I know exactly who you are." She shook my hand. "I'm Kate."

Holy mother of fuck.

Kate?

THAT Kate?

It hadn't even occurred to me that she would be here.

Thankfully, she continued speaking before it became obvious I had no idea what to say to her.

"It would seem we do have quite a bit in common, though not in the way which you previously thought."

"Such as?" I asked nervously.

"Oh, you know. The usual stuff." She rattled off details as if making a grocery list. "Small bladders, taste in men, a legitimate doubt that either of us would make it through tonight unscathed. Of course, the last part remains to be seen."

"How so?"

She fiddled with her skirt. "Do you have a few minutes? There are some things I'd like to discuss with you."

I nodded, hoping Edward would rescue me before Kate asked me anything truly uncomfortable. Then I remembered we were in the ladies' room, therefore making a reprieve impossible.

I was fucked.


	52. Epiphany

**chapter fifty-one**

**epiphany**

* * *

"I'm sorry I was staring at you earlier. It was rude and unnecessary…"

"And very human."

We glared at each other tensely for several seconds after I interrupted her. I finally exhaled and leaned against the counter.

"It's okay. If I had known you were here and what you looked like, I would have done the same thing. I think women are always curious about their competition."

She let out a small, humorless laugh. "I'm hardly your competition."

For the first time, I took a good look at her. She was tall and had an athletic but slender build. Her arms and shoulders were very toned, and if I had to guess, I'd say she played quite a bit of tennis. Her skin was peachy and flawless, unmarred by freckles or age. Her golden blond hair was pulled up in the front with an ornate clip and cascaded just past her shoulders. She wore a deep lilac gown that hugged her curves and showcased the colors in her gray eyes which seemed to sparkle under thick lashes. She was the American ideal—a cross between Carolyn Bessette Kennedy and Dianna Agron, and the kind of girl I would have furiously envied when I was younger.

I instantly hated her, and the fact she just had the audacity to make a self-disparaging remark in my presence served to not only intensify but also justify my emotions.

"You know," I shifted my weight in not-quite-mock annoyance. "Technically, you dated him longer than I did."

She waved her hand dismissively. "As if the length of a relationship has any bearing whatsoever on its significance."

Wait, was she on my team?

I straightened my posture and tried to figure out how the hell I should respond to her.

"You can relax, Bella." In an incredibly graceful gesture, Kate pushed her hair back over her shoulder. "I have no intention of making a play for Edward, or even of causing a scene, for that matter. I know you don't know me, but I assure you that's not my style."

She certainly had plenty of style.

Damn.

I was determined not to permit her to make me feel inferior.

"Then why are you here?" I asked.

"I bickered, and I was initiated. Even if the whole thing is silly and outdated, one needs to eat somewhere." She shrugged. "I'm not stalking you. I'd be here tonight regardless of your presence."

"If I wanted to know how one joins an Eating Club, I could read about it on Wikipedia," I snapped. "I want to know why you accosted me in the ladies' room."

She laughed. "You make it sound so hostile."

"Isn't it?"

"Not on my end. Look, I just wanted to meet you, and I had serious doubts Edward would introduce us. I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. God knows, I'm feeling awkward enough."

"You could have approached us during dinner."

"True, but then I wouldn't have been able to speak to you privately, and I know Edward would be extremely uncomfortable being present for what I need to say. Really, I just wanted to thank you."

She seemed genuine, but she had to be sarcastic. I decided to play along. "Thank me? For what?"

"Edward looks so…happy. Even with everything he's been through these past few weeks, there's a glow to him I've never seen. It's like he's come alive. Considering that I know losing Carlisle has been hell for him, this can only be attributed to his reconciliation with you. We were all so worried about him…"

"We?" I interrupted.

"His friends. I know you're thinking of me as the ex, but first and foremost, Edward and I are friends. That's how we started, and that's what we are now. Anyway, for a very long time, he seemed lost. Nothing helped him. Not his friends, not his family, not therapy…"

Whoa.

What?

"Therapy?" I repeated in disbelief.

Her hand flew up to her mouth. "Oh, fuck."

I needed clarification. "Edward is in therapy?"

"I thought you knew," she whispered. She looked at the floor and muttered to herself, "I knew that last tequila shot was a mistake." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "He's going to kill me."

"Relax, Kate. I'm not going to tell him that I know."

She looked at me through narrowed eyes, and I could tell she didn't trust me.

Smart girl.

If I were her, I wouldn't trust me, either. I had no intention of telling Edward I knew, but of course she couldn't know that. She had no idea that she had been the first person to be forthcoming about Edward's mental state after the Thanksgiving Massacre. I would never repay her confidence with betrayal.

Nor would I let such a rare opportunity escape me.

"Kate, I'm going to ask you what I know is a very inappropriate question, but I hope you'll humor me and answer it anyway. When Edward returned to campus last year after Thanksgiving Break, what was he like?"

"You should ask him that."

"I have. He won't tell me."

She sighed. "Well, that's a question I can't answer. I didn't meet him until the following March."

Interesting. So they met right around the time of David's bris. I wasn't sure why I assumed they'd known each other much longer.

"That works just as well." I gestured for her to continue.

"I guess I'm not sure why you'd like to know. Isn't ignorance bliss?"

"It would be, if I were completely ignorant. Sadly, though, I'm not. Everyone alludes to it —his mother, our mutual friends. Even Tyler gave me the evil eye as he cleared out of the room for the night. One of my best friends told me that on a scale of one to ten, Edward's pain was an eleven. I keep hearing it was bad, but no one will elaborate. Now you're telling me he's been in therapy, and my mind is playing a montage of multiple suicide attempts and a brief stay at Promises in Malibu. Please tell me it wasn't that bad."

"It wasn't that bad." She spoke in the kind of monotone bad public speakers use when they read off a teleprompter.

"But it was bad, wasn't it?"

She turned away from me and took a deep breath, as if contemplating her response. Finally, she shrugged as if giving up. When she finally answered, she looked at the floor as she spoke.

"It was bad…"

"Oh." I leaned against the sink and rolled my shoulders forward while taking deep breaths, hoping to release some of the tension building up in my chest.

"…but not as bad as you're thinking," she continued. "He was never self-destructive, and to my knowledge he didn't do any drugs harder than pot. He even stopped taking bong hits when we started hanging out regularly, because I don't like being around it. He was fully functional. He just seemed…disconnected. It was like he emotionally checked out. He wasn't actively angry or upset. He was just sort of numb."

I turned away from her. As nice as she seemed, I would be mother fucked if I let the girl Edward stuck his dick in while rebounding see me cry.

"Are you okay?" She placed her hand on my shoulder.

I wiped my eyes and spun around, looking at her perplexedly. "Why are you being nice to me? I mean, aren't I the reason you're no longer with Edward?"

"Hardly." She laughed without humor. "Edward is the reason I'm no longer with Edward. Well, me too, I guess. I have no interest in being with someone who'd rather be with someone else. Whether or not that person is available isn't really relevant."

"But you loved him."

"Yes, I do."

"You mean you did," I corrected.

"No, I mean I do. I probably always will in one way or another. I'm not going to stand here and pretend it wasn't real, or that my feelings for him went away when we parted romantically. This is why despite what you would think – and believe me, I know what you're thinking – I can't feel anything but gratitude towards you for making him happy."

I looked at her in disbelief. "So I guess this is where you warn me that if I fuck up, you'll be there to swoop in and get him back."

She shook her head. "I sincerely hope you don't fuck up. That would hurt him tremendously, and I never want to see him in that much pain again."

No wonder she didn't like pot. She was clearly smoking crack.

"Are you for real?"

"You think I have an ulterior motive."

"Don't you?"

"No." Her skirt made a rustling sound as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other before finally relaxing her stance. "Do you know he's never had a single negative thing to say about you? As hurt as he was when you broke up with him, he's only ever hoped for your happiness. Even during the months when he believed you'd never loved him, he never wished you ill. When he mentioned you, he'd say only that he hoped you weren't alone and that you'd find someone you could love the way he loved you."

She didn't need to elaborate.

I suddenly understood not only why Edward defended her so vehemently, but also how she could have encouraged him to reconcile with me.

She was truly selfless.

At nineteen years old, Kate had a better idea of what it meant to love someone than I'd had as recently as last month. She was a good person, a giving person, a whole person. She was worthy of Edward in ways I would never be.

Yet, he chose me.

I couldn't feel threatened by her. I felt nothing but genuine gratitude.

Without thinking about it, I closed the distance between us in two quick steps. I felt her stiffen as I hugged her, but I didn't let it deter me.

"Thank you for taking care of him." My words were completely sincere.

She tentatively placed her hands against my upper back. "Just don't hurt him."

"I won't," I whispered into her shoulder, our difference in height making our embrace more than a little awkward.

When she stepped away, her cheeks were wet.

"Hey," I squeezed her hand before I dropped it.

"Okay, I'm sorry, but I feel like a huge asshole," she whined as she turned to the mirror and wiped under her eyes.

"You're not an asshole."

"Oh, yes I am. I just spent half of my formal crying in the bathroom to my ex-boyfriend's girlfriend. If that's not asshole territory, I don't know what is."

"You were humoring me. I'm sure your parents raised you to respect your elders," I joked at my own expense.

She cracked a small smile, and my slight dig at myself was worth it.

Her smile was stunningly beautiful.

"Indeed they did. Well, I've monopolized you long enough. Nice meeting you, Bella."

"Likewise," I said, though nice didn't begin to cover it.

It was enlightening, emotional, and bizarrely freeing.

Kate quickly checked her make-up and opened the ladies' room door. She stood in the threshold when she saw Edward standing right in front of her.

"Is everything okay in there?" he asked, nervously looking at me over her shoulder.

I picked my clutch up from the counter and followed Kate out the door.

"Why wouldn't it be?" I asked.

His eyes darted from Kate's face to mine.

"You were in there a really long time," he said.

"Just some girl talk," Kate explained.

"Since when do you do girl talk?" Edward asked.

Kate sighed in mock exasperation. "Well, you're the biology major, but since I scored two points higher than you did on our organic chemistry midterm, allow me to explain this concept to you."

She was about to put him in his place, and I loved her for it.

"I have estrogen." She lifted up the hem of her dress to display delicate silver strappy sandals. "I'm wearing heels. This makes me more than capable of doing the girly-girl thing, even if I typically choose not to." She turned to me. "He's just bitter because not only am I better at math than he is, I can out drink him. Now if you'll both excuse me, I should find my date."

After she hurried off in a flurry of lilac silk, Edward turned to face me.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. She introduced herself, and we talked. I'm actually kind of glad she did. She's not at all what I expected. She's…well…I like her. Quite a bit actually."

"She is amazing." He leaned into me and his lips grazed my earlobe before he added in a whisper. "But she's not you."

"I'm not going to fly into a jealous rage, Edward. I don't have an inferiority complex about her, and I'm not about to develop one. I'm no less secure in our relationship now than I was an hour ago. If anything, I'm oddly confident."

He looked at me questioningly.

I straightened his bow tie as I continued speaking. "Meeting Kate was good for me. She is, in many ways, perfect. Yet you couldn't fall for her because you loved me. That speaks volumes."

He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me against him.

"Want to get out of here?" he asked, lightly tapping my ass.

I knew what he wanted to do.

Anxious much?

I gave him my best sex smile. "I thought you'd never ask."


	53. Landscape with Nude Woman

**chapter fifty-two**

**landscape with nude woman seen from the back**

* * *

"How did you manage to get rid of Tyler for the night?" I asked as we made our way upstairs to his room.

As a sophomore, Edward now lived in a quad consisting of two bedrooms linked by a common area. He shared a room with Tyler, while Mike and a guy named Mark whom I'd not yet met shared the other bedroom.

"Tyler is getting a double single for the rest of the year. He was more than happy to accommodate me for one night. Besides, his girlfriend and her roommate have a hot tub in their common area."

"What?"

"A hot tub. You know, the portable kind. They have it set up in their room. When Public Safety does code checks, they throw a blanket over it and some pillows and make it look like one of those stupid circular beds."

"And Public Safety never thought it was at all odd that someone brought a round bed to their college dormitory?"

Edward shrugged. "This is Princeton. People have brought man servants. A little superfluous furniture will hardly register on the radar."

"Damn," I muttered in disbelief. "I remember bringing a laptop and a flip 'n fuck, and a set of extra long twin sheets. I can honestly say setting up a jacuzzi in my room never once crossed my mind."

"I'm not surprised. It wouldn't cross most people's. What the hell is a flip 'n fuck?"

"You know, those chairs you unfold and can sleep on, except no one ever used them for sleeping."

"Interesting." He pushed open the door to his dorm room and gestured me inside. "After you."

Once in his bedroom, he took off his jacket and sat on the edge of desk. Slightly rumpled and in most of a tuxedo, he was sexy beyond description.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked up at me. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" I placed my clutch on his dresser. "Oh, you mean because your ex-girlfriend cornered me in the ladies' room?"

He nodded.

"It was fine. I am, however, slightly annoyed you didn't tell me she would be there. I did specifically ask you."

"You asked if you would know anyone there besides me. You don't know Kate."

"I do now." I could hardly contain the sarcasm in my voice. I stepped out of one shoe and then the other, and placed them next to my bag before adding without emotion, "She loves you."

"I know."

"I just wish you'd talk to me. When we first met, you were so open. You trusted me with everything. I know I shattered that, but if I haven't earned it back by now, I'm not sure I ever will." I lifted my dress and knelt on the floor between his knees, placing one hand on each of his thighs. "Tell me."

"What? What do you want to know?"

"All of it, starting with Thanksgiving."

"Why?" He lay his hands on top of mine. "Why does it matter?"

"I can't take responsibility for the consequences of my actions if I have no idea what they are."

"The therapy rhetoric is cute, but unnecessary. I've forgiven you. Forgive yourself."

"How?" I wailed. "That's like waltzing into confession and telling your priest. 'I did a very bad thing, but I don't have a fucking clue what it was.' How is he supposed to suggest your penance?"

"He'd start with a sincere act of contrition for saying the word 'fuck' in a church."

I pushed myself onto my feet and turned away, groaning in frustration, before spinning to face him.

"God, you're worse than I was."

"I just don't like to talk about it." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't even like to think about it." When he opened his eyes, they bore into mine. "You really want to know?"

I nodded.

He sighed in resignation. "Once I accepted that you were gone from my life, I more or less shut down. I don't remember much. When I came back to campus after Christmas, I started seeing a counselor at my parents' insistence, but you knew that."

"No, I didn't."

"Huh. I thought I'd told you that. Anyway, I was pretty much in limbo until I saw you at David's bris."

I moved toward him and knelt between his legs again, resting my head against his knee. He stroked my hair as he continued speaking.

"I met Kate shortly after that. She absolutely refused to let me wallow. I raged against the idea of becoming romantically involved with her at first, and sent her one mixed signal after another. She must have sensed the reason for my reluctance, because one day she said to me that if we didn't work as a couple, she wasn't going to just vanish on me. She was my friend first, and nothing would change that. Her declaration of platonic devotion somehow shifted our dynamic, and we just sort of fell into being a couple. The rest you know."

"Kate said all of your friends were worried about you."

His hand stopped moving, and I felt him sigh. "If I had a friend who looked and acted the way I did back then, I'd worry about him, too." He paused and and moved his hand to my shoulder. "Look at me Bella."

I lifted my head off his leg and stared into his face.

"I haven't gone into detail because I know some of it will be hard for you to hear. I wanted to spare you–"

"Don't. Once upon a time, I made decisions that I thought were for your own good without consulting you. Look where that got us."

"Here. It got us here." He put his hands under my arms and gently lifted me so he could press his lips to mine.

His first kiss was gentle, loving, and chaste. The second one caused my insides to combust, and I found myself gripping his shirt in a pathetic attempt to pull him closer to me.

He rose from the edge of the desk and brought me to my feet in front of him. His tongue rubbed against mine as his fingers lowered the zipper of my dress. I stepped out of my dress and draped it over his desk chair. I stood in front of him wearing only my strapless bra and a thong.

He leaned against the edge of the desk. "Let your hair down."

My hands pulled the pins out of my chignon one at a time, and placed them on the top of his dresser. I shook my hair out with my fingers, and it fell around my shoulders in loose waves. The only thing more obvious to me than the lust in his eyes was the bulge in his pants. I looked at him and smiled.

Without taking his eyes off mine, he stripped out of his tuxedo. As he pulled me into his arms, his skin was hot against mine. The next thing I knew, my palms rested against the wall as Edward stood behind me and unclasped my bra. He cupped my breasts in his hands as he kissed my ear and my neck while grinding his erection into my backside.

He lowered my thong over my hips, but my wide stance kept it from falling to the floor. One of his hands reached between my thighs, stroking and teasing, while the other continued stimulating my nipple.

His breath was hot against my neck as he whispered, "Now where is that bottle you mentioned?"

"In my evening bag."

He turned me around so I could see him. "You brought it to the formal with you?"

I nodded. "In case you wanted to…you know…between courses."

"God, I love you."

He cupped my face and placed a quick kiss on my lips, before retrieving the bottle from his dresser. He flipped the cap and squeezed a glob into the palm of his hand, before turning me around to face the wall the again. His fingers went back to work between my legs, and before I knew it, I was very close. Without altering the rhythm of his touch in the usual places, he slid one of his slick fingers into my bottom, and I came undone.

He spun me around and held me against him, running his hands across my back as my breathing returned to normal. Even in my post-orgasmic haze, I was acutely aware of his hardness pressing into my stomach. I turned so that my back faced him and leaned over his desk.

I could hear his breath deepen, and I looked over my shoulder at him. "So, what are you waiting for?"

He grabbed the bottle of lube off his dresser and generously spread some between my cheeks before also coating his erection with it. I rested my elbows on his desk and braced myself. His hand stroked my clit as I felt him slowly push his head inside my ass. It felt kind of nice.

Whoa.

He kept going.

Fuck.

Breathe, Bella. Your body will adapt. After all, Rose told you it would hurt at first.

Shit.

Ow.

Okay, it hurt.

OW.

He was fully inside me.

OUCH.

"Ugh," I groaned.

"Oh, baby. It's so tight."

Holy mother of anal fuck.

Of course, he would think I was tight. That's probably how ripping someone in two feels from the other end.

"So…fucking…tight."

You said that already, and I still hurt like hell.

He started pulling out, and the sensation was remarkably like…well…moving my bowels.

Did women actually enjoy this?

He pressed back inside me, and it still hurt. A lot. I decided I'd had enough experimenting for one night.

"Edward?"

"Oh, Bella. God, I'm going to come."

"How close are you?" Though I was in agony, I could live through a few more seconds so he could orgasm.

He grunted and pulled out, and I felt him release onto my back before collapsing against me.

I was never so happy for a sexual experience to be over.

"Thank you," he whispered into my neck.

Well, at least he was expressing gratitude.

"Can I get cleaned up?" I asked. "I feel kind of gross."

"Sure. I'm sorry. I'll walk you to the bathroom."

"Actually, I have baby wipes in my bag. That's fine for now. Excuse me." I pushed passed him and retrieved the wipes from my suitcase.

"Are you okay?"

I tossed him a wipe. "I'm fine now that we're done."

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, suddenly panicked.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. You should have told me. I would have stopped."

"It was important to you." I shrugged.

"Not more important than your feelings. When did it start to hurt?"

"Um, pretty much from the very beginning."

"And you let me keep going?" He almost seemed angry. "What the hell was it? Some sort of sick act of contrition for hurting me? You hurt me, so I hurt you back and now we're even? Is that what you were thinking?"

"Not consciously."

"Bella, this needs to stop. You can't take it back. And you know what? I don't want you to. There. I said it. Now can we please move on?"

"How can you mean that? You spent months walking around in a heartbroken haze and wound up in therapy."

"Yes, I did. It's in the past." He waved his arms in frustration. "This is exactly why I didn't want you to know. I expected you to feel like shit and launch headfirst into your trademark self-deprecation, but I never thought you would use anal sex to flagellate yourself. Yes, those months were awful for me, but I would go through that time again in a heartbeat because we both needed them to grow the fuck up."

I stared at floor, hating that no matter where we started, we always seemed to end up here.

"Look at me, Bella."

I raised my eyes to find him kneeling in front of me.

"I want you." He reached out and took my hands. "I love you."

He gave a gentle tug, and I fell into his arms. He hugged me tightly, stroking my hair. Eventually, he picked me up and sat on his desk chair, pulling me into his lap. We sat in silence for quite a bit of time.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Why didn't you tell me Kate would be here?"

He sighed. "It honestly didn't occur to me that you would want advanced warning. I had no idea that she would seek you out."

"Why didn't you tell me you two were still friends?"

"I did tell you that, when you and I began speaking again. I didn't think you needed status updates."

"Are you still in therapy?"

"Yes. I had stopped for a bit, and began going again after Dad died."

I silently considered his answers.

"Will you answer something for me now? Because I feel like complete and utter shit."

I nodded.

"How much did I hurt you earlier?"

"Honestly, a bit. I was about to tell you to stop, but then you said you were coming, and I figured I might as well let you finish. I can't believe some women are into that. Rose was talking like it was the greatest thing ever."

Edward snorted.

"What?"

"Rose is hardly most women as far as those things are concerned."

I shifted in his lap. "How would you know?"

"I walked in on her giving Emmett a blow job roughly eight hours after David was born."

"No way! In the hospital room?"

"Yes."

"The things we don't know about our friends."

"More like the things we wish we could forget." He hugged me tightly. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean to."

"I'm not just talking about the anal fail."

I closed my eyes and nodded. "I know."

I pulled his face towards mine and pressed my mouth against his. What began as a simple gesture of acceptance grew into an intense expression of passion. The next thing I knew, I felt him harden beneath me.

"Make love to me," I whispered.

He was only too happy to comply.

I spent the night with him, by choice, on the top bunk of his extra long twin bed, grateful to be with him and not feeling at all out of place on his campus as long as I was at his side. How I got there didn't matter.


	54. Night Landscape with a Lioness

**chapter fifty-three**

**night landscape with a lioness**

* * *

Edward held me as we slept, his arms wrapped so tightly around me, I had no fear whatsoever of falling out of the top bunk. As I closed my eyes and rested my face against his chest, it occurred to me that since our reconciliation, he always gripped me in his sleep. His nocturnal attachment spoke volumes about what he would not consciously verbalize.

My fidgeting caused him to stir, tightening his arms around me while murmuring something unintelligible. He woke up startled, his eyes wide open as they adjusted to the darkness. He exhaled finally when he focused on me. I kissed his chest, and he stroked my hair, resting his back onto his pillow as his surprise was replaced by relief.

He was still terrified I would leave him.

I knew we needed to discuss this, but now was not the time. His fingers released their death grip and began tracing patterns on my back. Propping myself up on one elbow, I stared into his face and whispered the only words that could possibly reassure him.

"I love you."

He gave me a sleepy smile and said that he loved me, too. I rested my cheek against him and let the rise and fall of his chest soothe my fear that life had made him cynical and that I was partially culpable.

The following morning we avoided Edward's eating club at my request, and instead went to PJ's on Nassau Street for pancakes. We filed into line outside the restaurant, and Edward had his arm around my waist. No one gave us a second look, let alone a disapproving one. I wondered if perhaps I'd been imposing my own discomfort with our relationship onto others and if the copious disapproving glances etched in my mind were, in fact, imaginary.

In reality, dressed in one of Edward's sweatshirts with my face scrubbed clean, I looked no different from any of the college girls around me, with the possible exception that most of them were clearly hungover or still drunk. I felt a strange burst of pride. With age came wisdom, and I was finally smarter than that.

I leaned against Edward and sighed.

He kissed the top of my head. "The food here is worth the wait, Bella. I promise."

Most quality life experiences were.

"I imagine it is. There would have to be something special about a pancake house that manages to flourish among a sea of diners."

"You'll see when you get inside. The interior is battle-weary from years of being well-loved. There's no pretense, just great food."

I smiled up at him. "I trust you."

My voice had a tinge of intensity to it, and I realized I wasn't talking only about his choice of restaurant. It was the first time I said those words and meant them. The irony that they came freely from my lips in a conversation seemingly about food but actually about life did not escape me.

I trusted him implicitly with everything.

Twenty minutes later, we slid into a wooden booth, carved with decades of graffiti, and placed our orders. He held both my hands across the table, and we touched constantly like a couple of love-struck teenagers.

I did, anyway. Edward actually was one. For the first time, I didn't inwardly cringe when I remembered his age. I loved him, and he made me happy. Nothing else was relevant.

"You don't have to do the semi-formal tonight if you'd rather not. I know how uncomfortable all of this makes you."

"No, I'll stay for the weekend."

He looked at me as if I had three heads. "Who are you, and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

I smacked his hand playfully.

"Seriously, though," he began, his demeanor changing. "I don't want you to do anything for me that you don't want to do. I still feel like a little shit about last night."

I started giggling.

"What?"

"You were up my ass. Of course, you felt like a shit, but definitely not a little one."

"Ha ha," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes before finally smiling. "I guess my choice of words could be construed as humorous, but I'm trying to be serious here. Bad pun notwithstanding, I don't want you to stay out of a sense of obligation."

"I'm feeling something right now, but it's not obligation." Under the table, I slipped my foot out of my shoe and ran my toes up the inside of Edward's leg.

"Behave," he warned.

"I'll be good."

My foot continued its movements.

"Oh, I have no doubt."

The waitress arrived with our food, and I was instantly distracted from my under-the-table play.

"Have I finally discovered your sex drive's kryptonite?" he asked.

"I'm ravenous. Besides, banana pecan pancakes win over giving you a foot job any day of the week. Now, if I were on the receiving end…"

He raised an eyebrow. "That would be different?"

"Maybe. It would depend on how hungry I was."

We finished eating, then spent the day tooling around campus. Edward showed me his favorite places, sharing stories and inside jokes about some of them. Halfway through the afternoon, it occurred to me that I would already know these things if we hadn't broken up or I had been more willing to share this part of his life. A brief feeling of melancholy washed over me, but I didn't allow it to linger. I began to entertain the idea that Edward had been right when he said our time apart had been necessary for both of us to grow. I smiled and listened intently, grateful that he was finally opening up about a time in his life he was previously so unwilling to share with me.

Soon it was time to dress for the semi-formal, and I knew that meant braving the communal showers. What a difference four years made. My alma mater, though not as old as Princeton, had a similar setup in the dormitories. At twenty-two, this didn't bother me, but at twenty-six, it did.

We began to walk toward the ladies' room, but Edward stopped in front of the men's room.

"Hang on a sec." He quickly vanished inside.

Well, this was great. I was about to turn and walk the rest of the way to the women's bathroom alone when he reached through the door and pulled me into the men's room.

"Don't worry. There's no one in here," he said, leading me to the showers.

After placing his towel on a hook, he went behind the curtain and turned on the water. When the temperature was warm enough, I joined him.

"This has to be against the rules." I squeezed some body wash onto my loofah and began scrubbing myself.

"Technically, but people do it all the time." He pointed to my breasts. "You missed a spot."

"I'm getting to that."

"Allow me." He bent his knees and cleaned my nipple with his tongue.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"Communal shower sex tops my short list of things to experience before graduating, yes."

I looked around. The walls were too nasty to lean against. Blowing him might work, but there wasn't enough room for me to bend at the waist and there was no way in ivy league hell was I getting on my knees—the floor was so nasty l'd kept on my flip-flops! There was only one remaning option. With my hands on his hips for balance, I squatted in front of him and licked the tip of his penis.

"Would oral count?" I asked.

"Absolutely!"

After he released into my mouth, we finished showering. We kissed under the stream of water, and Edward insisted on washing my hair for me, an act which he confessed also topped his short list.

We returned to his room to get dressed, and the look on his face when he saw me in my dress made a second night on campus more than worth it.

As I stood before him in the exact outfit I'd worn to the orchestra on our first date, he was awestruck. He raised his hand and rotated his index finger. I turned for him slowly and then repeated his gesture.

"Your turn."

He rotated leisurely, and I found myself wishing we hadn't committed to the second night of Houseparties. I just wanted to pull him by his tie and strip him. Sadly, I settled for straightening it instead.

"I can't decide if I prefer you in a suit or in a tux."

"This can't be the first time you've seen me in a suit."

It wasn't, of course. The first time I saw him in a suit was at his father's funeral. If he looked delicious, I was proud to say I didn't notice.

"It may as well be."

My arm through his, we made our way back to the Street. When we arrived, the first person I saw was Tyler.

"I thought you belonged to a different club," I said after he greeted me.

"I do, but my girlfriend belongs to this one. We decided to split Houseparties."

"That makes sense." I smiled at him warmly. "Thank you for giving us the room to ourselves."

"No problem. I'm sure Eddie told you about the hot tub?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "I'm still amazed you guys even thought of that."

"The idea was genius, I must admit. You should come see later. We're having an after party."

"Thanks Tyler, but no thanks." Edward's voice was clipped, and his tone was surprisingly final.

I looked at him questioningly. "I was kind of curious to see it, actually."

"Trust me, there's not much to see. Just a hot tub in a dorm room. Everyday, boring stuff."

Tyler shot Edward a strange look before turning back to me.

"Maybe some other time, when Edward decides he wants to be fun again."

Edward glared at Tyler, who smiled at me before walking away.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Nothing. Just believe me when I say that you didn't need to see the hot tub tonight."

I didn't ask him to elaborate. Tyler was, after all, the co-founder of Hard Drug Tuesday. I assumed they would be doing coke or E later and just dropped it.

"It's just as well. I don't have a swimsuit with me."

Edward laughed. "That's just it. You wouldn't need one."

I looked at him quizzically, and he continued.

"Room rules. No clothing in the hot tub."

"Oh."

Though just a few moments ago I was annoyed that Edward had spoken on my behalf, I suddenly felt grateful he had done so.

"Call me possessive, but I don't want my friends ogling your goodies."

Edward and I went to the bar and got drinks, then made the rounds. Though Kate was present, she kept her distance, acknowledging me only with a smile when my eyes met hers from across the room. Since the stress of socializing with the ex-girlfriend was now a non-issue, I was free to enjoy the evening.

Surprisingly enough, I did.

As we left the club, we passed Tylor on the Street, surrounded by his friends. They were all obviously wasted.

"Are you sure we can't change your mind?" he asked.

"Positive," Edward replied tersely.

As soon as we passed them, I heard a female voice I didn't recognize.

"He was never this uptight when he was with Kate."

A second girl I didn't know responded.

"It has to be about his new girlfriend. Even after he and Kate broke up, he still made the rounds."

I stopped walking and looked at Edward.

"Did you and Kate ever…"

I wasn't sure what I was asking, or even if I wanted to know the answer. If he'd been to a nudity-required hot tub party with his ex, I didn't want to know about it.

Did I?

My own experience told me that the debauchery present at those kinds of parties rarely stopped with nudity, and it would be completely out of character for him to do that sort of thing. Then again, he has admitted to whipping it out at parties. If Kate asked him to participate, he's the kind of guy who would suspend his own feelings of discomfort for the woman in his life.

"I'll explain when we get back to my room."

In a brilliant move, he smiled and waved at the group behind us, letting them know that we had heard them without sacrificing class or causing an ugly confrontation.

We didn't speak again until we were back in his dorm room.

"So," I said, "Kate was into group sex."

I was expecting him to be defensive, but he looked almost amused. "How did you make the leap from swimwear-prohibited parties to orgies?"

I shrugged. "I went to college."

He wrinkled his forehead in disbelief. "Did you ever…"

"Oh, no you don't." Though teasing, there was a definite edge to my voice. "This isn't about me."

"I hate to disappoint your inner perv, but no. Kate and I never participated in those types of activities. However, when the hot tub went in at the beginning of the school year, we did make the occasional appearance. If things started to go that route, we left."

I was instantly relieved. We'd come so far. I would be crushed to find out he'd lied to me.

"Have you?" he asked.

I played dumb. "Have I ever what?"

"You know what I'm asking. Have you ever participated in team sports?"

"Well, yes."

Edward looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or throw something.

"This is hardly a revelation. I've more or less owned it already. You know I've experimented with women." I shrugged. "It's easier to go down that road for the first time with a male audience."

"Go down is right. Here I am, trying to spare you debauchery that would probably look like a Disney movie compared to some of the shit you've seen."

"I appreciated the gesture. My past is one thing. It does, after all, have a context. At this point in my life…" I grasped his tie and pulled him toward me. "I don't feel compelled to share my toys."

His hand dipped under the plunging neckline of my dress and fondled one of my breasts.

"You share with me," he whispered, his lips against my neck.

"Those are your toys." I cupped his package over his pants. "These are mine."

His lips crashed into mine, and he had me out my dress in seconds. He palmed my bottom before pulling away, smiling.

"A thong. I knew it." He stripped out of his suit before picking me up and placing me on his desk. "Lean back and raise your hips. I owe you."

I complied, and he slid my thong over my hips before replacing it with his mouth. His tongue and fingers were where I needed them most. Just as I found my release, he picked me up and wrapped my legs around his hips. Still standing, he entered me.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to drop you."

I closed my eyes and lost myself in our coupling, trusting him completely while not discounting the implications of doing so.

Hours later, after rounds two and three, we rested in bed, my head on his chest. I was almost asleep when he spoke.

"Would it have bothered you if I had?"

"If you had what?" I muttered drowsily.

"If I had participated in team sports."

"Honestly?" I yawned. "No. However, it would have bothered me to find out only tonight that you had done so. I mean, I've asked you about your sexual activity while we were apart. Orgies were not part of your answer. I would have felt more betrayed by your dishonesty than your experimentation."

"You didn't actually think that I had…"

"For a moment, I did. It was silly of me, and I'm sorry. I know it would be out of character for you. In my defense, you are the kind of man who would do anything for the woman in his life. If Kate had asked you and it was important to her, I know you would have considered it."

Edward laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"It's nothing."

"No, tell me."

He hesitated before speaking. "Kate was so freaked out when she saw what was starting to happen."

"Conservative, huh? That doesn't surprise me."

"No, just inexperienced."

With great effort, my voice betrayed no emotion. "Were you her first?"

He said nothing, but an answer wasn't necessary. I already knew.

"That explains a lot. The first person always holds a special place in our hearts. No wonder she still cares about you."

"Does James hold significance for you?"

"Yes. He's the only person I've ever fucked whom I would gladly castrate given the opportunity. I'd call that special, wouldn't you?" I let out a small laugh. "All kidding aside, he would be special to me if it hadn't ended so hideously. As strange as it seems, I'm more comfortable with the idea of Kate now than I was before we had this conversation. No one in their right mind ends up with the first person they screw."

I realized my error as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Surprisingly enough, they didn't seem to upset him. He didn't ask me to clarify, or beg me to take him more seriously. He just tickled me until I cried uncle.

In this case, it was Uncle Present Company Excluded. I didn't say the words to appease him, or even to get him to stop tickling me. I said them because for the first time ever, I believed we could make it.

"Would you do something for me?" I asked.

"Anything," he answered immediately.

"When we get home, there's a phone call I need to make, something I've postponed much longer than I should have. Will you just sit with me while I talk?"

His eyes widened with realization, and he nodded slowly.

The following afternoon, while lying on my sofa safely ensconced in Edward's arms, I picked up my phone and dialed the only number I knew by heart.

For most of my life, the number had been mine as well.

A gruff male voice answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dad," I said tentatively. "How are you?"

"Cut to the chase, Bella. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Can't a girl call her father just to talk?"

"A girl could, but you never have."

He had a point.

I laughed nervously. "You see through me, as usual. I wanted to tell you I met someone…"

Though I was speaking to my father, my eyes never left Edward's as I detailed his many attributes.

"He's extremely bright and funny. I love his mind, and I could spend hours talking to him about absolutely nothing. He takes care of me, and makes me want to be a better person."

"What does he do?"

"He has two years left of college," I explained.

"Did he start late?"

"Actually, he started early."

He sighed, and I knew I was in for it.

"Isabella, how old is this boy?"

He sounded simultaneously bored and condescending, a feat only a parent could accomplish.

"Eighteen."

I was incredibly grateful my voice didn't waver. Even over the phone, my father could sense fear.

"Do you think it's wise to be involved with a boy no older than the ones you teach?"

I knew this was coming.

"Actually, Dad, I teach fifteen-year-olds."

"Eighteen is too young to be in a serious relationship. Look at your mother."

I sighed. "Mom is forty-four, and she's still too young to be in a serious relationship."

"Do you want to end up like me?"

I knew it would hurt him and do nothing to further my cause, but I needed to say it.

"Mom isn't the reason you're alone. You are."


	55. Epilogue

**epilogue**

**

* * *

**

I didn't linger on the phone with my father, but that wasn't entirely by choice. He ended the call before I could even finish telling him I loved him. Truth be told, this upset Edward far more than it did me. I had never been particularly demonstrative toward my family members, and only recently learned the importance of doing so by watching Edward lose Carlisle. I was not currently in the habit of ending conversations with declarations, but I was working to change this. Edward may have told Carlisle how much he loved him every time they spoke, but I never had. It was a chance I would never have again, and I was determined not to make the same mistake with my own father.

I knew my father and I would never be as close as Edward was with his parents, but I was okay with that. I no longer held on to an unrealistic hope that extraordinary actions would come from ordinary people. I was amazed by the sense of contentment I felt by my newly adjusted expectations and accepted my father for who he was, rather than feeling cheated out of what he would never be.

I spent the next week waiting for a fallout from my outburst during my phone call with my dad, but it never came. I called him the following Sunday, and although he didn't answer the phone, I left a message letting him know I was just calling to say hello and that I loved him. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Soon spring smoldered into summer, and Edward and Esme settled in to a new kind of normal. She claimed she was fine living on her own, but Edward wouldn't hear of moving back to campus. He insisted it was as much for his own sanity as it was for hers, that he would never be able to sleep knowing she was alone in a house that held so many memories.

The irony of this was that most nights he slept at my house. He insisted it all came down to proximity, and the knowledge from my home, he could be at his mother's side within ten minutes as opposed to the hour it would take him to drive home from Princeton. I suspected he was using his mother's bereavement as an excuse to move in with me, but I didn't call him on it. I enjoyed his presence far too much.

Soon Edward turned nineteen, and I turned twenty-seven. The leaves changed hues and fell to the ground, and before I knew it, I was standing in Esme's kitchen helping her carve the Thanksgiving turkey.

"I can handle this, Bella. Why don't you go into the living room and visit with Jack and Kitty?"

Esme's voice was dripping with sarcasm, and I couldn't contain my giggle.

"And let you do all the work on your own? I wouldn't dream of it. Besides," I continued, suddenly serious. "I know this can't be easy for you."

"What, entertaining Jack and Kitty? I'm used to it."

I was fairly sure she knew I wasn't referring to the Killer WASPs. I was more concerned that this was the first major holiday since Carlisle died. I knew it couldn't be easy for her. I also knew from her tone that it wasn't something she wanted to discuss.

Half an hour later, we filed into the dining room to eat. Edward sat at the head of table that had been previously occupied by his father. He bowed his head and began to speak.

"Bless us, O Lord and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord." He crossed himself before adding in a whisper that was almost too quiet to hear, "Please take care of my father the way he always took care of us."

"Amen," Esme said from across the table, her eyes filling with tears.

Kitty reached over and grasped Esme's hand.

"I'm fine, Mother. Really." Esme wiped under her eyes with the back of her wrist and forced a smile. "I guess I'll go first. I'm thankful for every day I had with Carlisle."

"I'm thankful for family," Kitty added, taking a swig of her vodka.

Jack nodded in agreement. "I'll second that."

"I'm thankful for Bella," Edward said, looking at me.

It was my turn to speak, but somehow, I didn't feel trapped or nervous.

"I, too, am grateful to have known Carlisle and for my family, both the one I was given and the one I found." I smiled at Esme. "But more than anything else…"

"Capless retractable Sharpies?" Edward teased.

I shook my head. "Just for that, I'll tell you later."

"Please?" he whined.

"No. Your sarcasm ruined the moment. You'll just have to wait."

He pouted slightly as we began to eat.

The rest of the evening was blissfully uneventful. After dessert, Jack and Kitty said goodbye. Edward, Esme, and I changed into sweats and cleaned up the kitchen before collapsing on the sofa and watching It's a Wonderful Life. When the movie was over, we called it a night.

"It feels so strange sleeping here," I said as we climbed into bed.

"You're telling me."

"Edward, this is your house."

He pulled me into his arms. "That's the weird thing. It doesn't feel like home anymore."

"The house does feel different without you father in it."

"Yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. I have so many memories in this house and it will always be a nice place to visit, but my home is with you."

I pressed my lips to his in what was meant to be chaste kiss, but he held me tightly and my breasts flattened against his chest that it was only a matter of seconds before my tongue entered his mouth and our kiss turned torrid. When his hands slipped into my pajama pants to cup my bottom, I grabbed him by the wrist to stop him.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Coming home." He gave me a suggestive smile as his thumb brushed my nipple under my t-shirt.

I let out a low moan.

"If you don't keep it down," Edward whispered before grazing my earlobe with his teeth. "I'll have to stop."

"I'll be quiet, I prom…ohhhh." I lost the ability to form coherent words when he began to stroke me between my legs.

We needed to be as close to each other as possible as quickly as possible. We pushed our clothing out of the way and as he entered me, there was a moment where I briefly wondered what I had ever done to deserve him. When we made eye-contact, I had my answer.

I loved him.

I loved him, and my love was enough.

After we were spent, I curled my body into his side and rested my head on his shoulder. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard his voice.

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"What were you going to say tonight at dinner?"

"If you made me say grace? 'Yay, god.'"

"No, I mean what you were thankful for."

I propped myself up on my elbow and down at him.

"Art After 5."

His eyes widened and he pulled my face towards his. When he kissed me with all the passion he had within him, I knew he understood. I fell asleep in his arms with my face against his chest. For the first time in my life, I dared to dream of forever.


End file.
